55 


ADVENTURERS 
OF  THE  NIGHT 

G.A.Birmindiam 


fi? 
Jafta 


'ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 
G.    A,    BIRMINGHAM 


BY  G.  A.  BIRMINGHAM 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

UP,  THE  REBELS! 

OUR  CASUALTY  AND  OTHER  STORIES 

THE   ISLAND   MYSTERY 

GOSSAMER 

MINNIE'S  BISHOP  AND  OTHER  STORIES 

GENERAL  JOHN  REGAN 

THE  LOST  TRIBES 

SPANISH  GOLD 

LALAGE'S  LOVERS 

THE  SEARCH  PARTY 

THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

THE  MAJOR'S  NIECE 

PRISCILLA'S  SPIES 

THE  RED  HAND  OF  ULSTER 

THE  ADVENTURES  OF  DR.  WHITTY 

THE   SEETHING   POT 

THE   BAD   TIMES 

HYACINTH 

FROM  DUBLIN   TO   CHICAGO 


NEW  YORK 
GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


ADVENTURERS 
OF   THE   NIGHT 

BY 

G.  A.  BIRMINGHAM 

Author  of  "Up,  the  Rebels!"  "Our  Cas- 
ualty,"    "Spanish     Gold,"     "The 
Island  Mystery"  etc* 


NEW  xar  YORK 

GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


:  •'*"•'**  Copyright j  1921, 

By  George  H.  Doran  Company 


Printed  in  the  "United  States  of  America 


Pi 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 


ADVENTURERS 
OF    THE   NIGHT 


CHAPTER  I 

A  COUNTRY  parson  has  no  right  to  expect 
adventures.  When  he  is  sixty  years  of 
age  he  has  certainly  no  right  to  enjoy  ad- 
ventures when  they  come.  Yet,  in  spite  of  some 
hours  of  discomfort  and  some  moments  of  anxiety 
I  got  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  out  of  the  happenings 
of  last  summer.  I  have  been  for  twenty  years  rec- 
tor of  Carrigahooly,  and  I  rather  prided  myself 
on  finding  the  satisfaction  of  peace  in  the  unbroken 
monotony  of  my  life.  Now,  in  spite  of  my  sixty 
years,  I  know  that  I  was  wrong  in  preferring  quiet- 
ness to  excitement.  I  ask  for  nothing  better  now 
than  more  adventures.  I  want  to  be  shaken  up  out 
of  the  placid  life  into  which  I  am  already  beginning 
to  settle  down  again.  Alas !  my  one  adventure  only 
lasted,  from  start  to  finish,  for  three  days,  far  too 
short  a  time,  and  I  am  not  at  all  likely  ever  to  be 
mixed  up  again  in  such  an  affair. 

The  story  begins  on  the  day  of  the  July  fair  in 
Dunally.     Dunally  is  a  small  town  of  no  particular 

7 


8        ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

importance,  and  fairs  are  held  there  once  a  quarter,, 
on  the  last  Tuesdays  of  July,  October,  and  so  forth. 
I  went  there  by  the  early  train  to  buy  a  cow.  I 
wasted  my  day.  There  were  very  few  cows  for 
sale  and  they  fetched  prices  far  beyond  my  modest 
means.  The  business  of  the  day  was  over  so  far 
as  I  was  concerned  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
when  a  little  Kerry  cow  which  I  liked  was  sold  to 
a  Dublin  dealer  for  three  pounds  more  than  I  was 
prepared  to  give.  After  that  I  had  nothing  what- 
ever to  do  till  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  Dunally 
is  ten  miles  from  Carrigahooly,  too  far  for  me  to 
walk,  and  there  is  only  one  train  each  way  in  the 
day! 

When  there  is  only  one  train  in  the  day  people 
are  careful  not  to  miss  it.  The  Carrigahooly  peo- 
ple who  had  been  to  the  fair  began  to  walk  up 
towards  the  station  at  about  three  o'clock.  When  I 
got  there  at  half-past  three  there  was  a  small  crowd 
on  the  platform.  I  live  on  very  good  terms  with 
the  people  of  Carrigahooly,  though  I  am  a  clergyman 
of  the  Church  of  Ireland,  and  ninety-eight  per  cent 
of  them  are  Roman  Catholics.  I  spent  the'  first 
half -hour  of  my  wait  pleasantly  enough,  chatting 
to  one  farmer  or  another  about  the  price  of  stock,  a 
matter  which  interests  them — and  me — much  more 
than  the  state  of  the  country  or  the  prospects  of  es- 
tablishing an  Irish  Republic.  Indeed,  the  only  per- 
son who  made  any  remark  about  current  affairs  was 
Mrs.  Maher,  the  owner  and  manager  of  the  "Im- 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT        9 

peria!"  Hotel  in  Carrigahooly.  She  held  a  copy  of 
the  "Irish  Independent"  in  her  hand  when  I  greeted 
her,  and  she  had  evidently  been  slightly  impressed 
by  the  big  letters  in  which  that  morning's  tragedy 
was  announced. 

"It's  a  pity,  now,"  she  said,  "to  be  shooting  the 
police  the  way  they  are.  But,  of  course,  it's  hard 
to  blame  the  boys  that  does  it  with  the  way  things 
are  going  on  at  the  present  time." 

Having  expressed  that  opinion  in  a  detached  and 
slightly  bored  tone,  she  went  on  to  discuss  with  ani- 
mation and  great  acuteness  the  amazing  rise  in  the 
cost  of  feeding  stuffs  for  pigs.  I  keep  a  pig  myself, 
and  Mrs.  Maher  keeps  three,  so  we  got  on  very  well 
together  till  four  o'clock.  Then  Patterson  came 
into  the  station.  He  is  the  inspector  of  police  in 
our  district,  and  he  lives  in  Carrigahooly.  He  is  a 
young  man,  and  I  find  him  both  pleasant  and 
friendly.  I  left  Mrs.  Maher  and  went  over  to  him. 

I  had  time  for  quite  a  long  chat  with  him,  for 
the  train  was  half-an-hour  late.  No  one,  not  even 
Patterson,  though  he  is  an  Englishman,  was  sur- 
prised or  annoyed  at  the  train's  failure  to  be  up  to 
time.  We  all  expected  it  to  be  later  than  it  was, 
and  we  should  not  have  been  surprised  if  it  had  not 
got  to  Dunally  till  five  o'clock.  It  comes  all  the  way 
from  Dublin,  a  matter  of  180  miles  or  so,  and  it 
has  to  stop  at  seventeen  stations  before  it  gets  to 
Dunally,  so  it  cannot  possibly  be  punctual.  Patter- 
son and  I  talked  about  mackerel  fishing. 


io      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

I  own  a  five-ton  boat  called  the  " Aurora/*  the 
only  pleasure  boat  in  Carrigahooly  Bay,  and  I  am 
always  glad  to  lend  her  to  Patterson,  or  to  take  him 
out  with  me.  Indeed,  I  think  that  he  uses  the  boat 
more  than  I  do  myself  in  the  course  of  the  summer. 
I  feel  that  Patterson  has  a  sort  of  claim  on  the 
"Aurora,"  for  I  bought  her  from  his  predecessor, 
who  had  in  his  turn  bought  her  from  a  still  earlier 
district  inspector  of  police.  Thus  she  has  been  con- 
nected with  the  police  for  ten  or  fifteen  years,  and 
it  was  rather  hard  on  Patterson  that  I  should  have 
stepped  in  and  bought  her  just  before  he  arrived 
in  Carrigahooly.  She  is  a  good,  seaworthy  boat, 
but  some  of  her  gear  is  old,  and  prices  being  what 
they  are  nowadays,  I  am  not  in  a  position  to  re- 
place things.  Patterson  was  explaining  to  me  that 
the  jib  sheets  were  really  in  a  very  bad  state  when 
the  train  bumped  over  the  points  outside  the  station 
and  drew  up  at  the  platform. 

It  was  then  that  we  caught  our  first  glimpse  of 
Molly  Floyd.  She  was  leaning  out  of  the  window 
of  a  third-class  carriage.  She  wore,  I  remember,  a 
bright  blue  cotton  blouse  and  no  hat.  Her  hair  was 
blown  about  and  her  face  had  several  large  smuts 
on  it.  She  must,  I  imagine,  have  kept  her  head  out 
of  the  window  a  good  deal  during  the  nine  hours  of 
the  journey.  But  in  spite  of  the  smuts  and  the 
tousled  hair,  she  looked  remarkably  pretty. 

I  suppose  that  an  elderly  country  parson  ought  to 
turn  away  his  eyes  from  the  vanity  of  pretty  faces, 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      n 

I  did  no  such  thing.  I  looked  at  Molly  as  the 
train  came  in,  and  I-  was  conscious  of  a  little  thrill 
of  pleasure.  Pretty  girls  are  common  enough  in 
the  west  of  Ireland,  and  I  see  three  or  four  every 
day  of  my  life;  but  Molly  was  more  than  simply 
pretty.  Her  eyes  sparkled,  and  there  was  some- 
thing about  her  mouth  and  the  set  of  her  head  which 
suggested  that  she  was  full  of  animation,  quite  pre- 
pared to  enjoy  whatever  life  brought  her.  I  did 
not  consciously  determine  to  travel  with  her,  but 
while  the  crowd  from  the  fair  scrambled  for  seats 
elsewhere  I  found  myself  with  my  hand  on  the  door 
of  her  compartment.  She  smiled  in  the  friendliest 
way  when  she  stood  aside  to  let  me  get  in. 

There  was  far  more  excuse  for  Patterson  than 
there  was  for  me.  He  was  scarcely  thirty  years  old, 
and  at  that  age  a  man  ought  to  be  affected  by  a 
pretty  face.  I  have  no  doubt  that  he,  too,  wanted 
to  travel  in  Molly's  company,  to  sit  opposite  her 
and  look  at  her  pretty  face.  But  there  were  diffi- 
culties in  his  way.  Patterson  had  been  on  duty  all 
day  and  wore  uniform,  the  uniform  of  a  district 
inspector  of  police,  which  gives  a  man  rank  as  an 
officer  and  a  gentleman.  There  are  regulations  gov- 
erning the  conduct  of  men  in  this  position.  They 
must,  while  they  are  actually  wearing  uniform, 
travel  in  first-class  carriages.  I  suppose  that  the 
King,  or  whoever  makes  these  rules,  thinks  that 
people  will  respect  officers  more  if  they  buy  un- 
necessarily expensive  railway  tickets.  Perhaps  that 


12      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

does  happen  in  England.  Here,  in  Ireland,  we 
would  not  respect  officers  or  gentlemen  even  if  they 
travelled  in  specially  designed  trains  de  luxe. 

Patterson,  with  the  return  half  of  a  first-class 
ticket  in  his  pocket,  walked  with  determined  strides 
to  a  smoking  carriage  further  up  the  train.  But 
fae  did  not  get  into  it.  Inclination  triumphed  over 
his  sense  of  duty.  He  came  back  to  Molly's  com- 
partment, and  when  he  got  into  it  pretended  that 
he  had  come  to  finish  what  he  was  saying  to  me 
about  the  "Aurora's"  jib  sheets. 

Molly  was  not  travelling  alone.  In  the  far  corner 
of  the  compartment  was  an  elderly  man  whom  she 
addressed  as  "Father."  He  seemed  to  me  an  in- 
offensive gentleman,  and  I  should  have  guessed  him 
to  be  a  professor  in  some  university — a  minor  kind 
of  professor  with  a  subject  which  few  people  want 
to  know  anything  about.  Patterson  looked  at  him 
with  some  suspicion.  It  is  the  duty  of  an  Irish  po- 
liceman to  look  suspiciously  at  anyone  whom  he 
knows  nothing  about — and,  of  course,  with  still 
more  suspicion  at  most  people  he  knows  all  about. 
Patterson,  though  he  had  ventured  into  a  third- 
class  carriage,  was  still  conscious  of  his  duty.  He 
looked  at  Molly  a  good  deal,  but  I  noticed  that  he 
eyed  the  old  gentleman  in  the  corner  sharply  from 
time  to  time.  A  regard  for  his  own  personal  safety 
keeps  a  man  alert,  and  Patterson  could  not  afford 
to  give  all  his  attention  to  any  girl,  however  pretty, 
unless  he  were  quite  satisfied  about  her  father. 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      13 

Nowadays,  landlords  being  nearly  an  extinct  spe- 
cies, the  police  afford  almost  the  only  big  game 
shooting  in  Ireland,  and  we  are  a  sporting  people. 
It  is  only  natural  that  men  like  Patterson  become 
exceedingly  wary.  Deer  on  Scottish  moors  have,  I 
am  told,  a  way  of  raising  their  heads  and  sniffing 
the  air  when  they  are  conscious  of  anything  unusual 
in  their  neighbourhood.  Irish  policemen  are  acquir- 
ing a  protective  instinct  of  the  same  sort. 

It  appeared,  when  the  train  reached  Carrigahooly, 
that  Patterson  and  I  were  not  the  only  people  in 
Dunally  who  had  noticed  Molly  Floyd  leaning  out 
of  the  window.  I  suppose,  indeed,  that  everybody 
noticed  her,  but  Mrs.  Maher  had  looked  at  her  with 
interest.  Mrs.  Maher,  who  is  a  middle-aged,  acute 
business  woman,  did  not  care  in  the  least  whether 
the  girl's  face  were  pretty  or  plain.  What  attracted 
her  was  the  fact  that  Molly  and  her  father  were 
strangers.  She  saw  the  father,  for  she  came  to  the 
window  of  the  carriage  and  looked  in  before  the 
train  left  Dunally.  I  have  no  doubt  that  she  made 
up  her  mind  then  and  there  that  there  was  a  chance 
of  profit  for  her. 

At  Carrigahooly  the  train  stops  finally.  It  cannot 
go  any  further,  for  beyond  Carrigahooly  there  is 
nothing  but  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  and  Inisheeny  Is- 
land eight  miles  off  the  coast.  It  was,  therefore, 
plain  to  Mrs.  Maher  that  the  Floyds  must  be  going 
to  get  out  at  Carrigahooly,  and,  since  there  was 


14      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

no  train  back  to  Dublin  till  the  next  day,  must 
mean  to  stay  there. 

On  the  platform,  when  we  all  got  out,  Mrs.  Maher 
came  up  to  Molly  Floyd. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  miss,"  she  said,  "but  are  you 
thinking  of  staying  in  the  hotel?" 

"Yes,  we  are,"  said  Molly.  "We  want  to  stay 
there  for  a  night,  or  perhaps  more.  Do  you  know 
where  it  is?  Can  we  get  a  car  to  drive  us  there?" 

Her  father  pulled  out  a  note  book  from  his  pocket 
and  referred  to  it.  He  was  evidently  one  of  those 
men  who  cannot  trust  their  memories,  and  have  to 
keep  everything  written  down. 

"The  'Imperial'  Hotel,"  he  said. 

"There's  no  other  hotel  in  the  place  only  the 
'Imperial/  "  said  Mrs.  Maher;  "but  you'll  not  find 
a  more  comfortable  house  in  Ireland,  wherever  you 
go.  His  Reverence  will  tell  you  that,  and  so  will 
Mr.  Patterson." 

She  looked  round  at  Patterson  and  me  as  she 
spoke,  drawing  us  into  the  conversation  in  the  pleas- 
ant, friendly  way  common  in  the  west  of  Ireland. 
I  was  quite  prepared  to  support  the  first  part  of  her 
statement.  Hers  is  the  only  hotel  in  Carrigahooly. 
But  I  was  not  prepared  to  say  that  there  is  no  more 
comfortable  hotel  in  Ireland.  I  have  never  had  to 
stay  there,  but  judging  by  what  I  have  heard  of  it 
there  cannot  possibly  be  many  less  comfortable  ho- 
tels. 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT       15 

"I  expect,"  I  said,  "that  Mrs.  Maher  will  put  you 
up  all  right." 

That  was  as  much  as  I  could  say.  Patterson 
would  not  even  say  that.  He  stayed  a  fortnight 
with  Mrs.  Maher  when  he  first  came  to  Carrigahooly 
and  he  knows  all  about  her  hotel.  He  said  nothing 
at  all.  Considering  that  he  is  a  very  honest  man, 
and  therefore  fond  of  blurting  out  unpleasant  truths, 
it  was  kind  of  him  to  keep  silence.  I  suppose  he 
has  been  long  enough  in  Ireland  to  learn  that  it  is 
never  right  to  speak  the  truth  to  a  neighbour's  in- 
jury. And,  whatever  Mrs.  Maher's  hotel  was  like, 
there  was  nowhere  else  for  the  Floyds  to  go. 

"I've  Jimmy  outside  with  the  ass-cart,"  said  Mrs. 
Maher;  "for  I've  two  young  pigs  that  I  bought  in 
the  fair,  and  he'll  be  bringing  them  down  for  me. 
So  if  you've  any  luggage,  Miss " 

"We  haven't  much,"  said  Molly.  "There's  a 
small  trunk  in  the  van  and  a  bundle  done  up  in 
green  canvas;  and  there  are  two  bags  in  the  car- 
riage." 

"I'll  tell  Jimmy  to  see  after  them,"  said  Mrs. 
Maher. 

Patterson  and  I  had  no  reason  for  lingering  in  the 
station.  We  went  on,  leaving  Mrs.  Maher  and 
Jimmy  to  deal  with  the  Floyds,  the  small  trunk, 
the  bundle,  the  bags,  and  the  two  young  pigs. 


CHAPTER  II 

WHEN  I  had  finished  tea — tea,  and  not  din- 
ner, is  the  meal  which  my  housekeeper 
gives  me  in  the  evening — I  lit  my  pipe 
and  went  out  to  the  garden  to  spray  a  pear  tree.    I 
was  anxious  about  that  tree  because  its  leaves  were 
curling  up  in  a  curious  way.     I  thought  that  a  wash- 
ing with  soapy  water  might  do  it  good. 

I  took  my  nephew,  Tommy  Graham,  with  me  to 
do  the  actual  work.  Tommy  is  my  sister  Jane's 
eldest  boy.  He  is  between  sixteen  and  seventeen 
years  of  age,  and  has  reached  the  fifth  form — the 
lower  fifth,  I  think — at  Haileybury.  This  year, 
owing  to  an  outbreak  of  measles  among  his  sisters, 
he  is  spending  his  summer  holidays  with  me.  Jane 
hinted  that  I  might  find  time  to  read  a  little  Latin 
— or,  better  still,  a  little  Greek — with  him  every 
morning.  I  do  not  attempt  this.  I  have  a  high 
opinion  of  the  classical  knowledge  of  the  fifth  form 
public  school  boy.  I  am  inclined  to  think  that 
Tommy  would  lose  all  respect  for  me  if  I  attempted 
to  read  Plautus  with  him.  I  am  quite  sure  that  I 
should  come  to  grief  badly  over  a  chorus  of  "Euripi- 
des." But  I  do  something  for  Tommy's  education, 
I  taught  him  a  little, about  sailing  boats  last  time 
he  was  here,  and  I  am  going  on  with  the  course 

16 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      17 

this  year.  I  have  also  taught  him  how  to  look 
after  bees,  and  I  mean  to  teach  him  how  to  spray 
pear  trees.  If  Tommy  is  as  intelligent  and  active 
at  his  Greek  as  he  is  at  sailing  and  bee-keeping  he 
ought  to  be  in  the  upper  sixth  very  soon. 

I  sat  on  a  garden  seat  at  a  safe  distance  and  gave 
orders  while  Tommy  wet  himself  and  the  pear  tree 
with  soapy  water  squirted  out  of  a  syringe. 

Patterson  found  us  engaged  in  this  way  when 
he  walked  into  my  garden  about  nine  o'clock.  He 
insisted  on  my  stopping  my  part  of  the  work  and 
going  into  the  house  with  him. 

"I  want  to  talk  to  you,  Rector,"  he  said. 

"Tommy,"  I  said,  "go  on  with  the  pear  tree  like 
a  good  man.  You  can't  give  it  too  much.  |When 
you've  finished " 

"Right-o,"  said  Tommy.  "I'll  do  the  next  one, 
too.  And,  I  say,  Uncle  Terence,  I  suppose  I  can 
have  that  thriller  about  the  man  who  murdered  the 
Prime  Minister  to  read' in  bed?  I  shall  have  to 
go  to  bed  early  if  you  and  Mr.  Patterson  are  going 
to  talk  secrets." 

I  wanted  that  thriller  myself.  It  had  just  come 
from  the  library,  and  detective  fiction  is  my  favour- 
ite kind  of  reading.  But  when  Tommy  actually 
proposed  to  go  to  bed  rather  than  interrupt  Patter- 
son and  mea  I  felt  that  he  had  a  good  claim  on  the 
book.  Tommy  is  a  very  tactful  boy  and  is  seldom 
in  the  way.  I  fancy  that  my  talks  with  Patterson 
do  not  interest  him  much.  I  dare  say  he  would 


>i8     ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

rather  go  to  bed  than  sit  listening  to  us.  Still,  he 
ought  to  have  the  book. 

Patterson  made  a  sort  of  apology  for  dragging 
me  away  from  Tommy  and  the  pear  tree. 

"There's  nobody  except  you  in  this  infernal  place 
that  I  can  talk  to,"  he  said. 

That,  I  think,  is  very  nearly  true.  A  police  of- 
ficer leads  a  lonely  life  in  a  small  Irish  town  nowa- 
days; and  Carrigahooly  never  was  a  centre  of  social 
life.  Under  normal  circumstances  Patterson  would 
probably  have  made  friends  with  the  doctor  and 
with  Farrelly,  our  only  solicitor.  But  the  doctor, 
besides  being  a  very  busy  man,  is  a  strong  Sinn 
Feiner,  which,  of  course,  cuts  him  off  from  the  po- 
lice* Farrelly  is  a  Sinn  Feiner,  too,  and  made  a 
speech  the  other  day  in  which  he  said  that  the  sol- 
diers and  the  police  are  members  of  a  murder  club. 
Farrelly  is  a  nice,  pleasant-mannered  young  fellow, 
and  I  do  not  suppose  he  really  meant  what  he  said. 
But  having  committed  himself  to  a  statement  of 
that  kind  he  cannot  well  invite  Patterson  to  his  house 
to  play  cards  in  the  evening.  Patterson,  who  was 
a  soldier  before  he  became  a  police  officer,  was  hit, 
so  to  speak,  on  both  sides  of  the  head  by  the  murder 
club  accusation,  and  he  declined  to  have  anything 
more  to  do  with  Farrelly.  I  tried  to  explain  to  him 
that  a  solicitor  is  dependent  for  his  living  on  the 
public,  and  must  say  the  sort  of  things  people  want 
said.  Patterson,  unfortunately,  cannot  understand 
this  point  of  view.  He  insists  on  thinking  that 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      19 

Farrelly  accused  him  of  planning  secret  assassina- 
tions. 

Shut  off  from  the  friendship  of  men  of  his  own 
class,  Patterson  might  have  taken  to  what  is  called 
"low  society" — in  my  opinion  the  most  amusing 
society  there  is.  He  might  have  made  friends  with 
Quin,  who  won  for  himself  the  name  of  Poacher 
Quin  in  the  days  when  there  was  any  game  left  to 
poach  in  this  part  of  the  country.  Quin  is  the  only 
man  in  Carrigahooly  who  still  manages  to  secure 
enough  whisky  to  make  him  drunk,  and  he  is  an 
outcast  from  Sinn  Fein  circles.  He  would  not,  as 
he  once  explained  to  me,  obey  the  laws  when  the 
gentry  made  them;  so  it  is  not  to  be  expected  that 
he  would  obey  laws  made  by  men  no  better  than 
himself.  An  independent  rebel  of  this  kind  finds 
himself  up  against  Sinn  Fein  and  organised  Labour 
nowadays  exactly  as  he  was  up  against  Lord  Mag- 
hera  and  his  friends  before  they  sold  their  prop- 
erty and  cleared  out  of  the  country.  Quin  would 
have  no  objection  to  associating  with  a  police  offi- 
cer now  when  a  police  officer  is  his  fellow  outlaw. 
But  Patterson  never  took  to  Quin.  Nor  does  he 
care  to  go  in  for  an  illicit  love  affair  with  Quin's 
daughter  Sabina.  The  girl,  though  her  face  is  sel- 
dom clean,  is  quite  good-looking.  She  is  a  servant 
in  Mrs.  Maher's  "Imperial"  Hotel;  but  she  spends 
a  great  deal  of  her  time  in  Patterson's  kitchen.  She 
goes  there  to  see  her  aunt,  Mrs.  Dever,  who  is  Pat- 
terson's housekeeper.  She  has  all  her  father's  dis- 


20     ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

like  of  law  and  contempt  for  public  opinion,  so  she 
would  quite  willingly  associate  with  a  policeman  or 
a  soldier.  But  Patterson  never  speaks  to  her. 

It  is  not  priggishness  or  any  undue  preference  for 
respectability  which  keeps  Patterson  from  making 
friends  with  the  Quins.  It  is  simply  that  he  doesn't 
understand  the  people  of  this  country.  He  thinks 
that  because  Quin  is  thoroughly  disreputable  he  must 
be  a  dangerous  rebel,  and  because  Sabina  is  a  wild, 
ungovernable  girl,  she  is  sure  to  be  mixed  up  with 
some  murder  gang.  I  have  tried,  but  quite  vainly, 
to  explain  that  the  genuine  Sinn  Feiner  is  respect- 
able to  the  point  of  actual  primness,  and  generally 
a  strict  teetotaller,  no  more  likely  than  the  secretary 
of  a  Y.M.C.A.  to  be  associated  with  Quin  or  his 
daughter.  Patterson  cannot  see  this.  He  abso- 
lutely declines  to  make  friends  with  Quin,  and  even 
persecutes  the  poor  man  by  setting  the  police  on 
his  track  and  arresting  him  from  time  to  time  for 
all  sorts  of  trivial  offences,  such  as  breaking  win- 
dows when  drunk. 

Thus  it  comes  that  Patterson  leads  a  lonely  life 
in  Carrigahooly,  and  is  driven  to  seek  my  society. 
If  he  .were  not  very  lonely  indeed,  he  would  not 
have  made  friends  with  me  or  have  taken  to  spend- 
ing three  evenings  a  week  in  my  house.  I  have 
neither  wife  nor  daughter  to  make  the  house  agree- 
able to 'him,  and  I  cannot  suppose  that  there  is  much 
about  a  stupid  and  respectable  old  country  parson 
to  attract  a  young  man  who  was  once  at  Oxford, 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      21 

afterwards  in  a  cavalry  regiment,  and  is  now  an 
officer  of  police. 

Patterson  went  into  my  study  through  the  open 
window,  and  sat  down  in  my  only  comfortable  chair. 
I  followed  him  and  offered  him  tobacco.  When  his 
pipe  was  lit  he  began  to  talk. 

"What  do  you  think  of  those  people  who  came 
here  in  the  train  to-day?"  he  asked.  "The  old  man 
and  his  daughter — if  she  is  his  daughter. " 

I  had  not,  so  far,  thought  about  the  Floyds  at 
all.  But  when  Patterson  asked  me  his  question  I 
began  to  see  that  their  visit  to  Carrigahooly  was  a 
matter  about  which  it  was  possible  to  speculate. 

"What  brings  them  here?"  said  Patterson. 

Ten  years  ago  I  should  have  answered  that  ques- 
tion without  a  moment's  hesitation.  A  man  with 
a  face  like  a  professor  would  plainly  have  been 
an  expert  of  some  sort  sent  out  by  the  Government 
to  improve  the  pigs,  the  poultry,  the  people,  or,  per- 
haps, the  soil  of  Ireland.  He  might  possibly  have 
brought  his  little  daughter  with  him  "to  bear  him 
company,"  as  the  skipper  of  the  "Hesperus"  did, 
though  I  do  not  remember  ever  meeting  an  expert 
with  a  good-looking  daughter.  Nowadays,  the  man 
could  not  be  an  expert,  because  the  Government  has 
given  up  trying  to  improve  Ireland — in  despair,  I 
suppose — and  no  expert  would  come  to  Carrigahooly 
unless  he  were  sent. 

"Perhaps,"  I  said,  "they're  simply  tourists  on  a 
holiday." 


22      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

I  knew,  even  while  I  said  it,  that  this  was  ab- 
surd. Anyone  who  has  seen  even  the  outside  of 
Mrs.  Maher's  hotel  would  know  that  Carrigahooly 
is  no  place  for  tourist  traffic.  Patterson  very  prop- 
erly ignored  the  suggestion. 

"You  saw  the  man's  face,"  he  said.  "What  did 
you  think  of  it?" 

"Well,"  I  said,  "he's  evidently  a  learned  man — a 
professor,  I  should  think.  But  it's  difficult  to  say 
exactly  what  his  subject  is.  Conchology,  perhaps, 
or  Arabic.  Something  rather  recondite  that  isn't 
much  use  for  Civil  Service  exams." 

"He  looks  to  me  like  an  Intellectual,"  said  Pat- 
terson; "one  of  the  Intelligentsia,  quite  the  most 
dangerous  class  in  the  community.  Those  fellows 
— they're  mostly  poets — are  at  the  bottom  of  half 
the  crime  in  the  country,  though  they  keep  their  own 
skins  safe  enough.  It's  always  the  same.  Look  at 
the  French  Revolution.  Look  at  Russia  to-day." 

The  part  taken  by  Intellectuals  in  revolutions  is 
a  favourite  subject  with  Patterson.  I've  known  him 
talk  about  it  for  two  hours  without  stopping,  and  I 
do  not  deny  that  he  has  a  good  deal  to  say  for  his 
point  of  view.  He  knows  a  lot  about  the  French 
Revolution,  which  seems  to  have  been  a  popular 
study  in  the  Oxford  History  Schools  before  the 
war.  And  he  says  he  knows  all  about  Russia.  He 
is  quite  interesting  when  he  works  out  the  connec- 
tion between  the  writings  of  Russian  novelists  with 
difficult  names  and  the  actual  performances  of  the 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      23 

Bolsheviks.  But  I  had  heard  it  all  before,  several 
times,  and  I  did  not  want  to  hear  it  again. 

"The  girl,"  I  said,  "seemed  to  me  quite  pretty. 
And  she  did  not  look  in  the  least  as  if  she  wrote 
plays." 

"She's  good-looking  enough,"  said  Patterson. 
"But  lots  of  these  revolutionary  women  are,  to  start 
with,  anyhow.  They  go  off  a  bit  in  the  matter  of 
appearance  after  a  year  or  two  of  that  racket." 

With  the  memory  of  some  recent  heroines  of  Irish 
Nationalism  fresh  in  my  mind  I  could  scarcely  argue 
that  pretty  ladies  are  never  revolutionaries.  But 
I  put  in  a  word  for  the  girl  we  had  met  in  the  rail- 
way carriage. 

"She  looked  to  me,"  I  said,  "as  if  she  was  out 
simply  to  enjoy  herself." 

I  thought  that  Patterson  would  go  on  talking 
about  the  girl  and  that  I  should  get  off  listening  to 
a  scathing  denunciation  of  the  unfortunate  Intellec- 
tuals. But  Patterson  is  not  easily  switched  off  his 
subject. 

"People  in  places  like  this,"  he  said,  "are  quiet 
enough  if  they're  let  alone.  They  form  clubs,  of 
course,  and  sing  songs  and  wave  flags.  But " 

"Mrs.  Maher,"  I  said,  "keeps  a  Sinn  Fein  flag 
flying  day  and  night  over  the  door  of  her  hotel." 

"Exactly,"  said  Patterson.  "But  she  doesn't 
mean  anything  by  it.  Nor  does  anyone  else  down 
here.  But  sooner  or  later  somebody  will  come  down 


24      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

from  Dublin,  one  of  their  damned  Intellectuals — • 
excuse  my  swearing,  won't  you,  Rector?" 

I  waved  an  acceptance  of  his  apology  for  saying 
"damn."  The  word,  after  all,  is  in  the  Prayer  Book, 
and  if  our  Irish  Intellectuals  are  as  bad  as  Pat- 
terson thinks  them  they  deserve  it — and  more. 

"One  of  them  will  come  down  from  Dublin," 
said  Patterson,  "and  ask  why  they  haven't  shot  the 
sergeant  or  me.  Then  they  will  shoot  us,  just  to 
preserve  their  self-respect  and  to  keep  up  the  good 
name  of  the  town." 

"And  you  think,"  I  said,  "that  the  old  gentleman 
in  the  railway  carriage " 

"Floyd  is  his  name,"  said  Patterson;  "and  you're 
quite  right  about  his  being  a  professor.  Celtic 
Archaeology  is  what  he  goes  in  for." 

I  know  that  Patterson  is  deeply  suspicious  of  any- 
thing Celtic. 

"He's  an  LL.D.,  too,"  Patterson  went  on.  "I 
sent  a  man  down  to  the  hotel  to  inquire  about  him." 

"If  he's  really  an  LL.D.,"  I  said,  "he  ought  to 
have  some  respect  for  law." 

I  did  not  really  think  this.  That  particular  de- 
gree is — like  the  O.B.E. — a  distinction  given  for  al- 
most any  reason.  I  knew  a  man  once  who  was 
given  it  honoris  causa  by  an  appreciative  university 
because  he  had  made  an  exhaustive  study  of  the 
habits  of  the  Soudanese,  a  subject  utterly  uncon- 
nected with  any  law.  Indeed,  almost  the  only  peo- 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      25 

pie  who  are  never  presented  with  the  degree  of 
LL.D.  are  lawyers. 

"First  thing  he  did  after  arriving  this  evening,  or 
rather  the  first  thing  the  girl  did,  was  to  start  mak- 
ing inquiries  about  how  to  get  out  to  Inisheeny. 
Now,  what  do  you  think  they  want  to  go  there 
for?" 

I  could  not  think  of  any  reason  why  the  Floyds, 
or  anybody  else,  should  want  to  go  to  Inisheeny. 
It  is  a  thoroughly  uninteresting  island,  which  lies 
eight  miles  out  from  Carrigahooly,  across  the  mouth 
of  our  bay.  It  possesses  no  attractions  in  the  way 
of  scenery,  being  almost  flat,  so  flat  that  I  often  won- 
der the  ocean  does  not  sweep  over  it  during  the 
winter  and  make  a  sandbank  of  it.  It  is  inhabited 
by  six  families  of  Flanagans,  who  grow  potatoes, 
own  a  few  lean  cattle,  and  fish.  They  make  a  lit- 
tle money  out  of  lobsters,  which  Mrs.  Maher  buys 
from  them.  They  are  all  related  to  each  other  by 
complicated  and  repeated  intermarriages,  and  my 
friend  Poacher  Quin  belongs  to  their  clan.  His 
mother  came  from  the  island  and  married  a  small 
farmer  near  Carrigahooly.  Poacher  Quin  still 
owns  the  farm,  but  has  never  managed  to  do  well 
with  it.  I  daresay  it  is  the  island  blood  in  him 
which  makes  it  so  difficult  for  him  to  adapt  himself 
to  the  higher  civilisation  of  the  mainland. 

Inisheeny  lies  within  Patterson's  jurisdiction,  and 
he  is,  I  know,  deeply  suspicious  of  the  island  and 
its  inhabitants.  He  has  an  idea  that  the  place  is 


26      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

used  by  some  foreign  foe — Russian  Bolsheviks,  per- 
haps— for  landing  arms  intended  for  use  in  our  next 
full-dress  rebellion. 

"There's  something  going  on  in  that  island,"  said 
Patterson;  "and  I've  never  been  able  to  get  at  the 
bottom  of  it.  These  Floyds,  whoever  they  are,  are 
evidently  in  it.  They  must  be  up  to  some  mischief 
or  they  wouldn't  want  to  go  there.  Nobody  ever 
went  to  Inisheeny  for  pleasure." 

"Oh,  come  now,"  I  said,  "I  go  there  myself  three 
or  four  times  every  summer.  I  was  there  last 
week." 

"Oh,  you!  You  don't  go  for  pleasure.  You  go 
to  buy  lobsters." 

"Lobsters  are  a  pleasure  to  me,"  I  said;  "and  you 
seem  to  like  them  when  you  get  them." 

By  buying  lobsters  a  couple  of  dozen  at  a  time 
direct  from  the  islanders  I  get  them  a  great  deal 
cheaper  than  I  should  by  waiting  till  Mrs.  Maher 
bought  them  and  made  her  profit.  And  I  like  sail- 
ing out  to  the  island.  The  "Aurora,"  in  spite  of 
what  Patterson  says  about  her  jib  sheets,  is  a  good, 
safe  sea-boat,  and  there  is  secure  anchorage  in  the 
bay  on  the  east  side  of  Inisheeny.  I  sometimes  go 
and  return  on  the  same  day.  Sometimes  I  spend 
the  night  there.  There  was  a  time — not  so  very 
many  years  ago — when  I  sailed  the  "Aurora"  sin- 
gle-handed. Lately  I  have  begun  to  find  the  ground 
tackle  rather  heavy  for  me  and  the  working  of  the 
head  sail-sheets  a  bit  tiring  in  a  beat  to  windward 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      27 

so  I  generally  take  Poacher  Quin  with  me  now.  He 
is  excellent  company,  and  is  glad  of  the  chance  of 
visiting  his  relatives  on  the  island.  I  can  scarcely 
call  him  a  paid  hand,  for  he  makes  no  charge  for  his 
services.  I  allow  him  to  bring  back  creels  of  lob- 
sters packed  with  seaweed,  and  sometimes  boxes  of 
mackerel  or  herrings,  which  he  disposes  of  to  Mrs. 
Maher.  In  this  way  my  "Aurora"  serves  a  useful 
purpose  in  developing  the  trade  of  the  island,  and  I 
am  able  to  feel  that  my  sails  are  not  mere  pleasure 
trips. 

"Anyhow,"  I  said,  "if  the  Floyds  want  to  go  to 
the  island  you  can't  stop  them." 

Patterson  bit  at  his  pipe  viciously,  and  his  face 
wore  a  very  determined  expression.  I  began  to 
think  that  he  meant  to  arrest  the  Floyds. 

"I  know  you  police  have  large  powers  nowadays," 
I  said,  "and  I  suppose  if  you  choose  to  raid  Mrs. 
Maher's  hotel  to-night  and  carry  off  the  Floyds  you 
can,  but  I  hope  you  won't.  We  are  all  living  peace- 
ably and  quietly  down  here,  and  if  you  do  a  thing 
like  that  you'll  stir  up  all  sorts  of  bad  feeling." 

"I'm  not  going  to  do  that,"  said  Patterson,  "but 
I  am  going  to  keep  my  eye  on  them,  especially  if 
they  go  out  to  Inisheeny.  I  suppose  you  won't  mind 
lending  me  the  'Aurora'  in  case  I  want  to  go  after 
them?" 

"I'll  lend  you  the  'Aurora'  with  pleasure,"  I  said, 
"any  time  you  want  her.  But  do  remember  that 


28      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

she's  not  a  battleship.  The  jib  sheets  may  not  be 
as  bad  as  you  say " 

"They're  rotten." 

"Even  so,  they  won't  be  improved,  nor  will  the 
rest  of  the  gear,  if  you  get  up  a  sea-fight  with  the 
Flanagans.  They'd  swarm  round  you  in  their  cur- 
raghs,  you  know,  and  think  nothing  of  slashing  every 
rqpe  in  her  with  knives." 

"Oh,  I'm  not  going  to  fight  anyone,"  said  Patter- 
son. "I'm  simply  going  to  watch  those  people  to 
see  what  they're  at." 

"Very  well,"  I  said,  "you  can  have  her;  but  I 
don't  think  I'll  go  with  you." 

Patterson  can  sail  the  "Aurora"  perfectly  well 
by  himself,  and  he  has,  as  I  happen  to  know,  at  least 
one  policeman  under  his  command  who  knows  some- 
thing about  boats.  So  I  felt  that  there  was  no  need 
for  anxiety. 

We  talked  on,  chiefly  about  revolutions  and  secret 
societies,  till  the  clock  on  my  study  chimney-piece 
struck  teh.  Then  Patterson  knocked  the  ashes  out 
of  his  pipe  and  went  home. 

Taking  into  consideration  the  hour  of  summer 
time  which  has  been  imposed  on  us,  the  half-hour 
of  Irish  time  which  was  filched  from  us  without 
our  noticing  it  during  the  war,  and  the  fact  that 
Carrigahooly  is  nearly  two  hundred  miles  west  of 
Dublin,  I  reckoned  that  it  was  in  reality  only  about 
eight  o'clock  when  the  clock  struck  ten.  I  suppose 
I  might  have  gone  on  spraying  my  pear  tree,  but 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      29 

Tommy  had  gone  to  bed,  and  I  did  not  feel  inclined 
to  splash  about  in  soap-suds  by  myself.  I  read  the 
newspaper  till  eleven  o'clock.  By  that  time  I 
thought  Tommy  must  have  gone  to  sleep  and  I 
might  get  the  detective  story.  I  went  very  cau- 
tiously into  his  room.  The  murder  of  the  Prime 
Minister  cannot  have  been  as  exciting  as  he  ex- 
pected. The  book  lay  on  the  floor  beside  his  bed. 
He  was  sleeping  profoundly. 

I  sat  up  till  one  o'clock  and  finished  the  story. 
The  Prime  Minister  was  not  murdered  after  all — 
only  kidnapped — but  the  work  of  the  detective,  an 
amateur  of  course,  who  brought  the  villain  to  jus- 
tice, was  thoroughly  satisfying.  After  following 
up  the  slenderest  and  most  unlikely  clues  for  two 
hours  I  felt  inclined  to  agree  with  Patterson  that 
Floyd  and  his  pretty  daughter  were  plotters  of  a 
dark  and  dangerous  kind.  The  man  who  kidnapped 
the  Prime  Minister  was  a  professor — medical — and 
he  had  a  beautiful  daughter  with  "sinister  eyes." 
Molly's  eyes  could  not  be  called  sinister,  but  other- 
wise Patterson  was  evidently  justified  in  his  sus- 
picions. 


CHAPTER  III 

PATTERSON  was  perfectly  right  about  one 
thing.  The  Floyds  really  did  want  to  go 
to  Inisheeny.  Molly  began  to  inquire  how 
to  get  there  before  she  was  an  hour  in  Carrigahooly. 
She  started  with  Mrs.  Maher ;  naturally  enough,  for 
an  hotel  keeper  is  usually  willing  and  anxious  to 
give  that  sort  of  information  to  guests.  Mrs. 
Maher  owns  an  excellent  boat,  one  of  the  best  of 
our  little  fishing  fleet.  She  is  not  fitted  out  as  a 
yacht,  and  is  therefore  not  particularly  comfortable 
for  pleasure  sailing.  But  the  passage  to  Inisheeny 
is  not  a  long  one,  and  might  perfectly  well  be  made 
in  the  "Seven  Daughters."  That  is  the  name  of 
Mrs.  Maher's  boat.  It  comes  from  a  Holy  Well 
near  the  ruins  of  Kildoyne  Abbey,  which  is  called 
the  Well  of  the  Seven  Daughters  of  the  King  of 
Britain.  But  any  allusion  to  the  father  of  the  girls 
has  to  be  left  out  in  naming  the  boat.  It  does  not 
do  in  Carrigahooly  to  be  suspected  of  the  slightest 
tendency  towards  loyalty. 

Mrs.  Maher  did  not  offer  to  lend  or  hire  her  boat 
to  the  Floyds.  This  surprised  me  when  I  heard 
it.  I  should  have  expected  her  to  offer  the  boat 
at  once — at  a  high  price — and  to  provide  a  crew 
— also  at  a  high  price.  She  could  easily  have  done 

30 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      31 

so.  Her  stable  boy  is  an  amphibious  animal  who 
often  goes  fishing,  and  Poacher  Quin  is  always  ready 
for  a  trip  to  the  island. 

Instead  of  earning  money  by  making  it  easy  for 
the  Floyds  to  go  to  Inisheeny,  Mrs.  Maher  did  her 
best  to  persuade  Molly  that  it  was  impossible  to  go 
to  Inisheeny  at  all,  and  very  undesirable  even  if  it 
could  be  done.  She  adopted  the  tone  of  a  benevo- 
lent mother,  anxious  about  Molly's  welfare.  Dr. 
Floyd,  I  understand,  took  no  part  in  the  discussion. 
He  sat  in  the  abominable  chamber  which  Mrs. 
Maher  calls  a  coffee  room,  and  read  papers — not 
newspapers,  but  piles  of  manuscript. 

After  her  failure  with  Mrs.  Maher,  Molly  did 
nothing  more  that  night,  but  she  got  to  work  early 
the  next  morning.  That  is  scarcely  to  be  wondered 
at,  even  if  there  were  no  truth  in  Patterson's  sus- 
picions. A  supper,  a  bed,  and  a  breakfast  in  Mrs. 
Maher 's  hotel  would  make  anyone  eager  to  sleep 
somewhere  else  the  next  night.  I  can  quite  under- 
stand a  stranger  feeling  that  Inisheeny  must  be  a 
more  comfortable  place  to  stay. 

After  breakfast  Dr.  Floyd  settled  down  again 
to  his  MS.  Molly,  who  was  evidently  in  command 
of  the  expedition,  went  out.  She  left  the  hotel,  ac- 
cording to  Mrs.  Maher,  at  half -past  eight.  Before 
eleven  o'clock  she  had  talked  to  everyone  of  any 
importance  in  Carrigahooly  except  Patterson  and 
me.  There  are  eight  people  in  the  place,  besides 
Mrs.  Maher,  who  own  fishing  boats.  Molly  Floyd 


32      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

got  at  them  all.  She  found  some  of  them  standing 
on  the  pier  with  their  hands  in  their  pockets,  put- 
ting in  their  eight  hours'  day.  Others  she  tracked 
to  their  houses,  and  one  man  she  found  in  bed. 
They  were  curiously  unanimous  in  their  refusal  to 
take  Molly  and  her  father  out  to  Inisheeny  on  any 
terms.  Refusal  is  perhaps  the  wrong  word  to  use. 
No  one  definitely  refused;  but  every  one  of  the  men 
pointed  out  that  the  difficulties  in  the  way  of  going 
to  Inisheeny  were  insuperable.  The  men  on  the 
pier  agreed  that  the  tides  in  Carrigahooly  Bay  made 
sailing  impossible.  Ever  since  the  Congested  Dis- 
tricts Board  had  built  the  pier  on  which  they  stood, 
the  tides  had  gone  wrong,  so  they  said,  and  nobody 
could  calculate  from  hour  to  hour  what  would  hap- 
pen. The  men  whom  Molly  found  in  their  houses 
were  less  unanimous,  and  none  of  them  blamed  the 
tide.  One  of  them  said  that  it  was  impossible  to 
land  at  Inisheeny  except  with  an  east  wind,  and  that 
the  wind  was  never  east  except  in  May.  Another 
mentioned  a  school  of  whales  which  had  established 
themselves  in  the  bay,  and  smashed  up  any  boats 
which  ventured  out,  by  flapping  their  tails.  The 
man  whom  Molly  found  in  bed  was,  perhaps,  too 
sleepy  to  be  imaginative.  He  said  simply  that  there 
was  a  large  hole  in  the  bottom  of  his  boat,  which 
he  could  not  get  mended  on  account  of  a  recent 
strike  organised  by  the  Transport  Workers'  Union. 
Molly  did  not  believe  a  word  the  men  said  to 
her;  though  she  understood  that  they  would  not 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      33 

take  her  and  her  father  out  to  Inisheeny.  But  she 
saw  the  "Aurora"  lying  at  her  moorings,  and  made 
up  her  mind  that,  since  fishing  boats  were  not  to  be 
had,  she  must  put  up  with  a  yacht.  She  called  on 
Dr.  Redington,  thinking  that  he  might  be  the  owner 
of  the  "Aurora."  He  received  her  coldly,  disap- 
pointed, perhaps,  that  she  was  not  a  patient  with  a 
fee  in  her  pocket.  He  did  not  even  tell  her  who  the 
"Aurora"  belonged  to. 

She  next  went  to  the  office  of  Farrelly,  the  solici- 
tor, and  found  him  there.  This  was  a  stroke  of 
luck,  for  Farrelly  is  very  seldom  to  be  found  in 
his  office.  He  somehow  manages  to  conduct  a  lucra- 
tive business  without  tying  himself  down  to  any 
regular  hours  of  work.  But  Farrelly  did  not  help 
her.  She  seems  to  have  asked  him  at  once  for  the 
name  of  the  owner  of  the  "Aurora,"  and  Farrelly 
is  far  too  good  a  lawyer  to  give  a  straight  answer 
to  a  direct  question  of  that  kind.  The  consequence 
of  answering  questions  may  be  serious  and  unpleas- 
ant, whereas  no  harm  can  come  of  not  answering 
them.  Lawyers,  all  over  the  world,  understand 
that.  In  the  west  of  Ireland,  everybody  else  un- 
derstands it  too.  So  Molly's  chances  of  getting  in- 
formation from  Farrelly  were  exceedingly  small. 

She  went  down  to  the  quay  again  after  leaving 
Farrelly's  office,  and  found  my  nephew,  Tommy, 
there,  putting  off  to  the  "Aurora"  in  the  dinghy. 
When  Tommy  has  nothing  particular  to  do,  and 
cannot  persuade  either  me  or  Patterson  to  go  out 


34      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

sailing,  he  goes  off  to  the  boat  and  spends  a  few 
hours  quite  happily  playing  about  with  the  sails 
and  gear. 

Molly  shouted  to  him,  and  Tommy,  who  has  ex- 
cellent manners,  rowed  back  to  the  pier  to  find  out 
what  she  wanted.  They  seem  to  have  made  friends 
at  once.  It  must  have  been  Molly's  gaiety  and 
cheerfulness  which  won  his  heart.  He  is  hardly 
old  enough  to  be  fascinated  by  a  pretty  face.  He 
told  Molly  that  the  "Aurora"  belonged  to  me,  and 
promised  without  the  slightest  hesitation  that  I 
would  lend  her  for  an  expedition  to  Inisheeny.  I 
can  hardly  blame  him  for  that.  I  am  always  will- 
ing to  lend  the  boat,  and  Tommy  did  not  know  that 
I  had  already  promised  her  to  Patterson.  Besides, 
he  saw  a  good  chance  of  a  day's  sailing  for  him- 
self. His  idea  was  that  he  and  Poacher  Quin  should 
manage  the  boat.  Molly  was,  of  course,  delighted. 
She  and  Tommy  left  the  harbour  together  to  make 
arrangements  for  the  expedition. 

At  eleven  o'clock  I  strolled  down  to  the  village. 
I  meant  to  go  to  the  hotel,  and  I  had  a  very  good 
excuse  for  going  there.  I  wanted  some  tobacco, 
and  Mrs.  Maher  keeps  a  supply  of  the  kind  I  smoke. 
But  the  tobacco,  as  I  knew  perfectly  well,  was  only 
an  excuse.  What  I  really  wanted  was  to  gossip 
with  Mrs.  Maher,  and  to  hear  all  she  could  tell  me 
about  the  Floyds. 

As  I  passed  down  the  street  Tommy  rushed  out 
of  Mahony's  shop  and  caught  me  by  the  arm.  Ma- 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT       35 

hony's  is  our  chief  shop  and  a  very  excellent  one. 
You  can  buy  anything  there  from  a  bicycle  to  a  pot 
of  jam.  Tommy,  I  supposed,  was  in  search  of 
sweets,  or  perhaps,  cigarettes,  which  he  has  lately 
taken  to. 

"Uncle  Terence,"  he  said,  "I  suppose  it's  all  right 
for  me  to  take  out  the  *  Aurora5  if  I  get  Quin  to 
come  with  me?" 

"I'm  sorry,  Tommy,"  I  said;  "but  you  can't  have 
the  'Aurora.'  I've  promised  her  to  Patterson." 

Tommy's  face  fell.  I  could  see  that  he  was  realty 
disappointed. 

"That's  a  pity,"  he  said.  "I  was  frightfully  keen 
on  getting  the  boat  to-day.  In  fact " 

He  paused,  and  looked  so  dejected  that  I  felt  very 
sorry  for  him.  After  all  Tommy  has  rather  a  dull 
time  of  it  with  me.  Spraying  pear  trees  is  hardly 
a  schoolboy's  idea  of  amusement.  There  is  no 
cricket,  and  hardly  any  tennis  in  Carrigahooly.  If 
he  could  not  use  the  "Aurora" 

"Perhaps  Patterson  won't  want  her  to-day,"  he 
suggested.  "Anyhow,  he  might  put  off  whatever 
he  wants  her  for.  Next  week  ought  to  do  him 
quite  well.  Don't  you  think  so?" 
•  He  looked  at  me  pleadingly,  and  Tommy  has  nice 
brown  eyes,  like  a  setter's. 

"Now  if  I  can't  have  her  to-day,"  he  said,  "it 
will  be  no  use  my  having  her  at  all." 

"Nonsense,    Tommy,"    I    said.     "The    mackerel 


36      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

have  only  just  come  into  the  bay.  There'll  be  more 
of  them  next  week." 

I  still  thought  he  wanted  to  go  fishing,  and  I  could 
not  understand  why  he  was  in  such  a  hurry. 

"I'm  not  going  to  fish,"  he  said.  "At  least,  I 
may,  but  that's  not  what  I  want  the  boat  for.  The 
fact  is,  I  promised " 

He  stopped  there  and  did  not  go  on,  though  I 
waited  some  time.  I  tried  to  help  him  out. 

"Promised  what?"  I  asked. 

"Oh,  well.  I  promised  to  take  her  out  to 
Inisheeny." 

I  suppose  I  was  stupid,  but  I  thought  Tommy 
meant  the  boat  by  "her."  I  had  not  the  least  idea, 
up  to  that  moment,  that  there  was  a  girl  in  the  af- 
fair. 

"Who  did  you  promise  to?"  I  asked. 

Tommy  was  a  little  embarrassed. 

"The  fact  is,  Uncle  Terence,"  he  said,  "that  I 
don't  know  her  name.  I  never  thought  of  asking. 
But  she  wants  to  go  out  to  Inisheeny — she  and  her 
father — and  I  promised  you'd  lend  them  the  *  Au- 
rora.' " 

"I  don't  see  how  I  can  keep  your  promise  to  her," 
I  said,  "without  breaking  my  own  to  Patterson." 

I  felt  pretty  sure  who  Tommy's  girl  must  be.  I 
remembered  what  Patterson  had  said  to  me  the  night 
before  about  the  Floyds  wanting  to  go  to  Inisheeny. 
If  they  were  the  sort  of  people  he  thought  them 
I  was  certainly  not  going  to  lend  them  my  yacht. 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      37 

And  I  did  not  like  the  idea  of  my  nephew  ferrying 
revolutionaries  off  to  remote  islands. 

"She's  an  awfully  nice  girl,"  said  Tommy,  "a  real 
good  sort,  you  know,  just  the  kind  of  girl  that  you 
wouldn't  think  was  a  girl  when  she's  talking  to  you. 
Much  more  like  a  boy." 

Tommy  is  still  young.  In  another  four  years  or 
so,  the  "awfully  nice"  girls  will  be  those  who  are 
more  or  less  like  girls.  There  was  something  so 
refreshingly  boyish  in  his  appreciation  of  Molly 
Floyd  that  I  felt  it  harder  than  ever  to  disappoint 
him. 

"All  right,"  I  said.  "I  don't  really  mind  which 
of  you  has  the  boat.  Speak  to  Patterson  yourself, 
and  arrange  it  any  way  you  like  between  you." 

I  felt  pretty  certain  that  Patterson  would  not 
surrender  the  "Aurora"  if  he  knew  that  she  was  to 
be  used  for  taking  the  Floyds  out  to  Inisheeny. 
But  the  unpleasantness  of  refusing  Tommy  would 
be  his,  not  mine. 

"I  wish  you'd  ask  him,"  said  Tommy.  "He'd  be 
much  more  likely  to  give  her  up  if  you  asked  him." 

That  was  true.  Indeed  Patterson  could  not  well 
refuse  me  the  use  of  my  own  boat  if  I  asked  for  it. 
But  I  was  not  going  to  do  any  such  thing.  I  hard- 
ened my  heart. 

"No,  no,"  I  said.  "I  can't  spend  my  time  run- 
ning round  and  round  after  Patterson.  If  you  want 
the  boat  you  must  ask  him  for  it." 

I  left  Tommy  there,  feeling  very  sorry  for  him, 


38      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

and  walked  down  to  the  hotel.  I  found  Mrs.  Maher 
doing  accounts  in  the  little  room  she  calls  her  of- 
fice. She  got  the  tobacco  I  wanted  at  once.  Then 
she  began  to  talk. 

"That's  a  nice  young  lady  you  sent  me,"  she 
said.  "And  her  father  is  a  very  quiet  sort  of  a  gen- 
tleman." 

"I'm  glad  you  like  them,"  I  said,  "but  you  needn't 
thank  me  for  sending  them.  I  hadn't  anything  to 
do  with  their  coming  here.  I  never  spoke  to  either 
of  them  in  my  life." 

"Well,  now,  .think  of  that !"  said  Mrs.  Maher. 
"I  made  sure  they  were  friends  of  yours  and  Mr. 
Patterson's  when  I  saw  the  way  you  were  running 
to  get  into  the  train  along  with  them  at  Dunally  yes- 
terday." 

I  knew  that  Mrs.  Maher  did  not  suspect  me  of 
chasing  a  girl's  pretty  face  at  a  railway  station.  She 
knows  me  too  well  to  think  that  of  me.  But  I  also 
knew  that  she  did  not  believe  me  when  I  said  that 
I  knew  nothing  about  the  Floyds. 

"It  was  only  this  minute,"  said  Mrs.  Maher,  "that 
she  was  telling  me  about  how  you  were  lending  her 
your  boat  to  go  out  to  Inisheeny.  And  to  tell  you 
the  truth,  I  was  rather  wondering  at  your  doing  the 
like,  for  the  father  doesn't  look  as  if  he  knew  much 
about  boats,  and  the  young  lady  is  hardly  one  that 
I'd  care  to  be  trusting  on  the  sea  by  herself." 

"I  don't  know  what  she  meant  by  saying  that," 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      39 

I  said.  "I'm  not  lending  her  the  boat.  As  a  mat- 
ter of  fact  I've  lent  her  to  Mr.  Patterson." 

"That'll  be  it,  then,"  said  Mrs.  Maher.  "Mr. 
Patterson  will  be  taking  the  young  lady  out  to 
Inisheeny." 

She  had  evidently  absolved  me  of  all  connexion 
with  the  Floyds,  and  made  up  her  mind  that  they 
were  friends  of  Mr.  Patterson's.  I  knew,  of  course, 
that  Patterson  had  not  the  least  intention  of  taking 
them  out  to  Inisheeny,  that  he  was,  in  fact,  most 
anxious  to  keep  them  away  from  the  island.  I 
said  as  much  to  Mrs.  Maher,  but  she  did  not  believe 
me;  she  thought,  perhaps,  that  Patterson  had  kept 
his  intention  secret  from  me  and  borrowed  the  boat 
without  mentioning  the  Floyds.  But  she  had  no 
doubt  that  he  had  brought  them  down  to  Carriga- 
hooly  with  the  intention  of  taking  them  out  to 
Inisheeny.  It  was  evident  that  Mrs.  Maher  did  not 
recognise  them  as  emissaries  of  any  secret  society. 
I  began  to  think  that  Patterson  must  be  wrong  about 
that. 

"The  young  lady  was  at  me  last  night,"  said 
Mrs.  Maher,  "for  the  lend  of  my  boat  to  go  out  to 
the  island.  But  she  didn't  get  it." 

"Why  not?"  I  asked. 

Mrs.  Maher  did  not  answer  that  question. 

"And  she  was  out  this  morning,"  she  went  on, 
"galloping  and  chasing  round  the  town  to  try  could 
she  get  e'er  a  boat  at  all.  But  there  wasn't  one  in 
the  place  would  listen  to  her." 


40     ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

"Why  not?"  I  asked  again. 

Mrs.  Maher  looked  at  me,  and  I  could  discern, 
as  it  were,  behind  her  eyes,  a  message  which  she 
seemed  to  think  I  should  be  able  to  read.  But  I 
did  not  understand  in  the  least  what  she  meant^ 
All  she  said  was: 

"Inisheeny  is  no  place  for  a  young  lady  like  her, 
nor  yet  for  an  old  gentleman." 

That,  of  course,  is  quite  true.  Even  Mrs.  Ma- 
her's  own  hotel  would  be  far  more  comfortable  than 
any  of  the  houses  on  Inisheeny,  but  that  was  plainly 
not  what  was  in  Mrs.  Maher's  mind.  I  got  the  im- 
pression that  she  was  afraid  that  the  visit  might  be 
inconvenient,  not  to  the  Floyds,  but  to  the  islanders. 

"And  what  would  they  be  wanting  there,  any- 
way?" said  Mrs.  Maher. 

I  did  not  know  that ;  any  more  than  I  knew  why 
Mrs.  Maher  and  all  the  Carrigahooly  fishermen  de- 
clined to  earn  good  money  by  hiring  out  their  boats. 

"And  what  does  Mr.  Patterson  want  to  be  taking 
them  there  for?  Tell  me  that." 

Again  the  look  of  secret  intelligence  appeared  in 
Mrs.  Maher's  green  eyes.  Again  I  totally  failed  to 
understand  it. 

"Mr.  Patterson  doesn't  want  to  take  them  there," 
I  said.  "He  told  me  so  himself." 

"Them  police,"  said  Mrs.  Maher,  "is  terrible  liars. 
But,  sure,  I  suppose  they  can't  help  it.  Only  I 
don't  think  they  should  be  deceiving  a  man  like  your 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      41 

Reverence,  who'd  believe  anything  anyone  might  say 
to  him." 

Telling  lies  to  a  simple,  innocent  man  like  me  was 
evidently,  in  Mrs.  Maher's  opinion,  an  unsporting 
act,  like  shooting  a  sitting  bird;  something  Patter- 
son ought  to  be  ashamed  of.  I  found  myself  a  lit- 
tle puzzled.  The  Floyds,  father  and  'daughter,  had 
come  to  Carrigahooly  and  wanted  to  go  to  Inisheeny. 
Patterson  thought  he  knew  why.  They  were,  in 
his  opinion,  agents  of  some  revolutionary  society 
concerned  with  the  landing  of  arms  on  the  island, 
and  were  anxious  to  murder  the  police.  Mrs.  Maher, 
an  ardent  Sinn  Feiner,  if  one  can  judge  by  the  flag 
she  flies  over  her  hotel,  also  thought  she  knew  why 
the  Floyds  wanted  to  go  to  Inisheeny.  She  did 
not  confide  her  idea  to  me,  but  she  certainly  believed 
that  they  were  in  close  touch  with  the  police,  per- 
haps spies  from  Dublin  Castle.  For  some  reason 
she  and  every  fisherman  in  Carrigahooly  were  spe- 
cially anxious,  just  as  anxious  as  Patterson  was,  to 
keep  them  out  of  Inisheeny.  I  do  not  believe, 
though  Patterson  does,  that  Mrs.  Maher  is  mixed 
up  in  any  treasonable  conspiracy.  She  seems  to  me 
too  sensible  a  woman  to  take  politics  seriously,  ex- 
cept as  a  means  of  making  money.  And  there  is 
no  money  to  be  made  by  going  to  extremes  and  de- 
fying the  law.  I  was  quite  in  the  dark  about  her 
motives.  The  only  thing  I  really  understood  was 
Tommy's  wish  to  go  out  sailing  with  an  "awfully 
nice"  girl,  the  kind  of  girl  you  wouldn't  think  was 


42      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

a  girl  when  she  was  talking  to  you.  It  was  easy 
to  see  that  such  a  companion  might  be  very  attrac- 
tive. 

I  knew  more  about  Molly's  attractiveness  and  her 
force  of  character  half  an  hour  later. 


CHAPTER  IV 

I  LEFT  Mrs.  Maher's  room  with  my  tobacco  in 
my  pocket.  I  had  a  half-pound  packet  which, 
as  things  turned  out,  was  very  fortunate  for 
me.  In  the  hall  of  the  hotel,  I  came  on  Molly  Floyd 
and  Tommy.  They  were  talking  earnestly.  I  sup- 
posed that  he  was  telling  her  that  he  could  not  get 
the  boat.  That  is  what  he  should  have  been  telljng 
her;  but  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  he  was  doing 
nothing  of  the  sort.  He  was  planning  how  he  and 
she  could  best  induce  me  to  alter  my  decision  and 
break  my  promise  to  Patterson. 

The  moment  Molly  saw  me  she  came  over  to  me 
with  an  outstretched  hand,  and  a  most  engaging 
smile.  Tommy  was  plainly  a  little  ashamed  of  him- 
self. He  slipped  quietly  out  of  the  door  and  dis- 
appeared, though  he  did  not  go  very  far  away. 

"I  was  just  going  up  to  your  house  to  see  you," 
she  said,  "so  it's  great  luck  meeting  you  here. 
Tommy  tells  me  you've  lent  your  boat." 

Tommy,  when  I  was  speaking  to  him  half  an 
hour  before,  did  not  know  her  name.  She  had 
evidently  got  hold  of  his  and  was  on  the  friendliest 
terms  with  him. 

"Un fortunately,"  I  said,  "I  promised  the  boat 
to  Mr.  Patterson  yesterday." 

43 


44     ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

"Is  that  the  young  man  who  travelled  in  the  train 
with  us?" 

"Yes,"  I  said. 

"Then  I'm  sure  he'll  let  us  have  the  boat.  He 
looked  quite  nice — not  at  all  what  you  call  a  cur- 
mudgeon. A  curmudgeon  is  the  right  word,  isn't 
it?  For  a  dog  in  the  manger  kind  of  person?" 

Curmudgeon  is  the  right  word ;  but  I  fancy  Molly 
was  a  little  confused  about  the  derivation,  though 
a  dog  in  the  manger  is  no  doubt  a  cur. 

"You'll  ask  him  to  let  us  have  the  boat,  won't 
you?"  said  Molly.  "He'd  do  it  if  you  asked  him." 

I  thought  I  might  wiggle  out  of  a  difficult  posi- 
tion by  paying  Molly  a  little  compliment.  She  de- 
served it,  for  she  was  looking  even  prettier  than  she 
looked  the  day  before. 

"He'd  be  far  more  likely  to  do  it  if  you  asked 
him,"  I  said. 

"There  isn't  another  boat  to  be  got,"  said  Molly. 
"I've  tried  and  tried.  But  all  the  men  who  have 
boats  tell  me  silly  stories  that  aren't  a  bit  true.  And 
we  simply  must  get  to  Inisheeny.  Now  don't  you 
think  you  ought  to  help  us?  As  a  clergyman,  I 
mean.  It's  the  duty  of  all  clergymen  to  succour 
those  in  distress,  by  being  Good  Samaritans." 

Molly  was  misusing  a  parable.  The  priest  passed 
by  on  the  other  side,  and  the  main  point  about  the 
Samaritan  was  that  he  was  not  a  clergyman.  But 
I  let  that  pass.  She  was  smiling  at  me  again  in 
such  a  way  that  I  felt  for  a  moment  as  if  it  were 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      45 

part  of  a  clergyman's  ordinary  duty  to  lend  boats 
to  young  ladies  whose  characters  were  under  gen- 
eral suspicion.  But  my  reason — a  faculty  on  which 
one  can  rely  at  sixty  years  of  age — came  to  my  help. 

"Why  do  you  want  to  go  to  Inisheeny?" 

"I  don't,"  she  said.  "At  least,  I  do  rather,  but 
only  for  the  fun  of  desert  islanding.  I've  always 
wanted  to  desert  island,  and  this  is  the  first  time 
I've  ever  had  the  chance.  But  it's  father  who  really 
wants  to  go." 

"But  why?"  I  asked. 

She  looked  at  me  very  doubtfully.  Tommy  ap- 
peared suddenly  from  round  a  corner,  and  put  his 
head  and  shoulders  through  the  open  door.  Molly 
signalled  to  him  to  go  away.  Then  she  sank  her 
voice  into  a  whisper,  as  if  she  had  something  very 
private  to  say  to  me. 

"Are  you  interested  in  crannogs?"  she  asked. 

The  question  was  entirely  unexpected.  For  a 
moment  or  two,  such  was  my  surprise,  I  could  not 
recollect  what  sort  of  thing  a  crannog  is.  Even 
if  I  had  stopped  to  think  I  could  not  then  and  there 
have  given  any  clear  description  of  a  crannog,  though 
I  know  a  lot  about  the  things  now.  Startled  as  I 
was  by  Molly's  question  I  could  not  feel  sure  of 
anything  except  that  crannogs  are  Irish  and  An- 
cient. They  might  be  songs,  crosses,  shrines,  bells, 
brooches,  or  ornamental  designs.  But  I  was  very 
much  afraid  of  putting  an  abrupt  stop  to  Molly's 


46      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

confidences  if  I  allowed  it  to  appear  that  I  was  un- 
sympathetic about  crannogs. 

"I'm  not  exactly  an  expert  on  the  subject,"  I  said. 
"But  I'm  interested.  Every  educated  man  must  be 
more  or  less  interested  in  crannogs." 

I  saw  at  once  that  I  had  said  the  wrong  thing. 
Molly  stopped  smiling  and  looked  slightly  depressed. 

"That's  a  pity,"  she  said.  "If  you're  interested 
in  crannogs  I  simply  can't  tell  you  why  father  wants 
to  go  to  Inisheeny.  He'd  be  furious  if  I  did. 
Father  is  a  perfect  darling  in  every  way,  and  I  love 
him.  But  he's  liable  to  get  a  bit  ratty  if  he  thinks 
anybody  else  is  after  his  thing,  especially  a  crannog. 
You  know  what  I  mean,  don't  you?" 

With  a  nephew  like  Tommy  in  my  house  I  am 
kept  in  touch  with  the  later  developments  of  the 
English  language.  I  know  that  "ratty"  means  ir- 
ritable. The  rest  of  Molly's  meaning  was  still  a 
little  obscure  to  me. 

"Just  like  a  dog  with  a  bone,"  Molly  went  on. 
"He  doesn't  mind  a  cow  or  a  sheep,  because  he 
knows  they  won't  take  his  bone,  but  if  another  dog 

comes  along Well,  that's  father.  I  wonder  if 

you'd  mind  pretending  not  to  know  or  care  anything 
about  crannogs,  when  you're  taking  us  out  to 
Inisheeny  in  your  boat,  I  mean." 

Again  Molly  startled  me  abominably.  She  took 
a  great  deal  for  granted.  I  had  not,  at  that  time, 
even  promised  to  lend  her  the  "Aurora."  I  had 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      47 

certainly  not  said  that  I  was  going  out  to  Inisheeny 
myself. 

"You  needn't  actually  tell  a  lie,"  said  Molly.  "All 
you  have  to  do  is  just  not  talk  about  crannogs. 
That'll  give  father  the  impression  that  you  know 
nothing  about  them.  I'd  hardly  call  that  deceit, 
would  you?" 

"Oh,  no,"  I  said.  "That  wouldn't  be  deceit.  In 
fact  I  don't  think  it  would  be  deceit  if  I  said  straight 
out  that  I  know  nothing  at  all  about  crannogs." 

"That's  all  right  then,"  said  Molly.  "Your  con- 
science will  be  quite  clear,  and  what  I  always  say 
is,  that  so  long  as  your  conscience  is  clear  nothing 
else  really  matters.  We'd  better  start  at  once, 
hadn't  we?" 

I  am  a  weak-willed  old  man,  I  suppose — easily 
turned  and  driven.  My  enemies,  if  I  have  any,  may 
say  that  a  pretty  girl  can  wind  me  round  her  finger. 
But  I  honestly  believe  that  I  was  less  influenced  by 
Molly's  pretty  face  than  by  her  astonishing  impu- 
dence. I  made  but  a  feeble  defence. 

"I'm  not  sure,"  I  said,  "about  starting  at  alL 
You  see  I  promised  Mr.  Patterson " 

"Did  you  really  and  truly  promise?"  said  Molly. 

"I  almost  swore  it,"  I  said.     "So  you  see " 

"Well,  then,"  said  Molly,  "if  I  were  you " 

she  came  over  quite  close  to  me,  laid  her  hand  on 
my  arm,  and  looked  up  at  me.  "I'd  be  jolly  careful 
to  keep  out  of  his  way  till  afterwards.  That's  why 
I  said  we'd  better  start  at  once." 


48      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

"I  see  that,"  I  said.  "If  we're  going  to  start  the 
sooner  we  do  it  the  better/' 

Molly  ran  to  the  door  of  the  hotel  and  called 
Tommy. 

"It's  all  right/'  she  said,  "your  uncle  is  going  to 
take  us  out  to  Inisheeny  in  his  yacht.  Isn't  it  sweet 
of  him?" 

I  could  not  quite  hear  what  Tommy  said  in  reply. 
I  think  his  words  were  "Good  egg." 

"He's  coming  himself,"  said  Molly,  "which  will 
be  far  nicer  for  father."  (I  was  sorry  she  added 
"for  father.")  "And  we're  going  to  start  at  once." 

"I  must  go  home  first  to  change  my  clothes,"  I 
said,  "but  I  won't  be  long." 

"Right,"  said  Molly,  "I'll  have  father  down  at 
the  pier  in  half  an  hour.  You'll  be  there,  won't 
you,  Tommy,  and  bring  the  things  I  told  you  to  get  ? 
You  settled  about  that,  I  suppose." 

"Rather,"  said  Tommy. 

I  took  no  special  notice  of  what  she  was  saying 
to  him.  It  did  not  even  occur  to  me  that  they  must 
have  calculated  on  my  complete  surrender  since  they 
had  arranged  beforehand  what  things  they  were 
going  to  take  to  the  island.  I  did  not,  even  then, 
understand  the  sort  of  expedition  I  was  in  for.  I 
went  back  to  the  rectory,  walking  hurriedly  and 
rather  nervously  through  the  town.  I  was  very 
much  afraid  of  meeting  Patterson.  I  had  no  good 
excuse  to  make  for  failing  to  keep  the  promise  I  had 
made  him,  and  I  knew  that  he  would  not  believe 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      49 

in  Dr.  Floyd's  passion  for  crannogs.  He  \vould  re- 
gard that  as  a  very  suspicious  way  of  covering  up 
the  real  object  of  his  visit  to  the  island.  Fortu- 
nately, I  did  not  meet  Patterson,  though  I  ran  into 
Sergeant  Morris,  who  was  lounging  about  outside 
the  hotel.  He  was  probably  engaged  in  keeping  an 
eye  on  the  Floyds,  by  Patterson's  order. 

I  got  out  of  my  clerical  clothes  as  quickly  as  I 
could,  putting  on  a  very  old  coat,  a  fisherman's 
jersey,  and  a  pair  of  grey  flannel  trousers.  There 
is  nothing  which  interferes  with  the  pleasure  of 
boating  so  effectively  as  good  clothes,  even  clothes 
only  as  good  as  my  every-day  suit.  Then  I  spent 
ten  minutes  in  my  study — all  the  time  I  could  spare 
— searching  my  shelves  for  some  book  which  would 
tell  me  plainly  what  a  crannog  is.  "A  Guide  to 
the  Antiquarian  Exhibits  of  the  National  Museum" 
was  my  best  find;  but  it  was  unsatisfactory.  The 
author  assumed  that  his  readers  must  know  the  ele- 
mentary facts.  All  I  gathered  was  that  there  are 
a  good  many  crannogs  in  Ireland — eight  or  ten  of 
them  were  named  though  there  was  no  mention  of 
one  on  Inisheeny.  They  have  been,  according  to 
this  author,  "opened"  from  time  to  time,  and  found 
to  contain  a  great  variety  of  interesting  things,  such 
as  swords,  carved  bones,  and  canoes.  That  was 
all  I  was  able  to  find  out  from  that  book,  and  I  did 
not  look  for  another  because  I  was  unwilling  to  keep 
Molly  waiting.  I  did  not  even  take  that  book  with 
me.  I  was  afraid  that  Dr.  Floyd  might  turn 


50      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

"ratty"  if  he  saw  a  learned  work  dealing  with  cran- 
nogs  in  my  pocket. 

When  I  reached  the  pier  I  found  that  our  expe- 
dition was  creating  much  popular  interest.  All  the 
Carrigahooly  fishermen,  even  the  man  who  had  been 
in  bed,  were  there,  staring  silently  at  Molly  and  her 
father.  Mrs.  Maher  was  there,  apparently  expos- 
tulating with  Molly.  Sergeant  Morris  was  stand- 
ing, dignified  and  aloof,  at  the  end  of  the  pier,  keep- 
ing his  eye  on  Dr.  Floyd.  The  small  travelling 
trunk,  the  two  handbags,  and  the  large  green  canvas 
bundle  which  the  Floyds  had  brought  with  them  in 
the  train,  were  lying  together  at  the  top  of  the  flight 
of  stone  steps  which  leads  down  to  the  water.  This 
gave  me  rather  a  shock.  I  had  supposed  that  we 
were  to  sail  out  to  the  island  and  come  back  again 
in  the  evening.  It  looked  to  me  as  if  the  Floyds 
meant  to  stay  there.  I  was  quite  clear  on  one  point. 
They  could  not  possibly  sleep  on  my  yacht.  The 
"Aurora,"  a  five-ton  boat,  has  a  small  cabin  open- 
ing off  the  cockpit,  and  a  large  sail  locker  forward, 
covered  by  a  hatch.  I  have  often  slept  on  the  boat 
myself;  and  once  or  twice  Poacher  Quin  has  coiled 
himself  up  along  with  my  spare  jib  and  the  anchor 
chain  in  the  locker  forward.  But  an  elderly  pro- 
fessor— no  doubt,  a  man  of  sedentary  habits  and  ac- 
customed to  modest  comfort — would  be  utterly  out 
of  place  on  a  boat  of  the  sort.  A  girl,  even  an  ac- 
tive and  cheerful  girl  like  Molly,  would  be  simply 
impossible. 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      51 

Tommy  was  already  on  the  deck  of  the  "Au- 
rora," hoisting  the  mainsail.  He  finished  the  work 
as  I  reached  the  pier,  hauled  the  dinghy  alongside 
and  jumped  into  her. 

Molly  ran  up  to  me.  Mrs.  Maher  followed  her, 
still  expostulating. 

"Mrs.  Maher  is  telling  me,"  said  Molly,  "that  we 
can't  possibly  sleep  on  the  island.  But  we  can, 
can't  we?" 

"You  certainly  can't  sleep  on  the  boat,"  I  said. 
"She's  not  big  enough." 

"I  don't  want  to  sleep  on  the  boat.  I  want  to 
sleep  in  one  of  the  cottages  on  the  island." 

Mrs.  Maher,  who  does  not  move  as  quickly  as 
Molly,  reached  me  then. 

"I'm  after  telling  the  young  lady,"  she  said,  "that 
there's  no  place  for  the  like  of  her  in  any  of  the 
houses  on  Inisheeny,  and  what's  more,  if  she  sleeps 
in  one  of  them  beds  she'll  be  sorry  for  it  after, 
for " 

Molly  stamped  her  foot. 

"Don't  say  that  disgusting  thing  again,"  she  said. 

Mrs.  Maher  did  say  it  again;  but  she  had  some 
respect  for  Molly's  feelings.  She  said  it  in  a  very 
low  tone,  with  her  mouth  close  to  my  ear.  I  caught 
her  point  at  once.  I  could  hardly  have  failed  to 
do  so,  for  she  gave  the  insects — several  of  them — 
their  very  plainest  names. 

"I  don't  think  you'd  better  try  it,"  I  said  to  Molly. 
"Mrs.  Maher  is  sure  to  be  right.  And  we  can  eas- 


52      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

ily  come  back  to-night.  But  you  can't  possibly  sleep 
on  the  boat.  Remember  that." 

I  thought  it  well  to  be  perfectly  firm  on  that 
point. 

"Oh,  well!"  said  Molly.  "We  have  a  small  tent. 
Lucky  I  brought  it,  isn't  it?" 

I  glanced  at  the  green  canvas  bundle.  It  could 
not  be  or  contain  a  tent  of  any  considerable  size; 
but  that  was  Molly's  concern,  not  mine. 

"Father  meant  to  sleep  in  it,"  she  said,  "and  I 
meant  to  sleep  in  a  cottage;  but  if  I  can't,  I  can't. 
So  I'll  have  the  tent  and  father  will  sleep  on  the 
yacht.  There'll  be  lots  of  room  for  him,  won't 
there?" 

There  is  not  lots  of  room  for«anyone  on  a  five-ton 
boat ;  but  if  Floyd  chose  to  sleep  on  board  he  could 
have  the  seat  along  one  side  of  the  cabin.  That 
would  mean  the  sail  locker  for  Tommy,  which  would 
do  him  no  harm.  But  I  was  doubtful  about  Floyd. 
I  do  not  resent  discomfort  myself ;  but  it  was  likely 
that  he  would  very  much  dislike  a  night  in  the  "Au- 
rora's" cabin.  The  man  was,  by  his  daughter's  ac- 
count, inclined  to  be  "ratty"  about  trifles.  I  was 
afraid  that  I  was  in  for  an  unpleasant  time. 

Tommy,  who  had  been  rowing  rapidly,  reached  the 
steps  and  hailed  me.  I  went  down  to  him  at  once. 

"Tommy,"  I  said,  "did  you  understand  that  we're 
going  to  spend  a  night  at  Inisheeny?" 

"Rather,"  he  said. 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      53 

"Then  I  think  you  ought  to  have  told  me,"  I 
said. 

I  suppose  he  saw  the  justice  of  that  complaint; 
for  he  told  me  something  more  at  once. 

"We'll  be  there  about  a  week,"  he  said. 

"No,  we  won't,"  I  said.  "This  is  Tuesday,  and 
whatever  happens  I  mean  to  be  back  for  Sunday, 
even  if  I  have  to  take  the  'Aurora'  and  leave  the 
rest  of  you  marooned  there." 

"Right-o!"  said  Tommy. 

I  do  not  think  that  either  he  or  Molly  would 
have  minded  much  if  I  had  left  them  on  the  island; 
but  I  hoped  that  Floyd  would  object. 

"I  don't  believe  there's  a  thing  to  eat  on  board," 
I  said,  "except  a  couple  .of  tinned  tongues.  You 
finished  the  biscuits  last  day  you  were  out  and  I 
never  thought  of  ordering  another  box." 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Tommy.  "I  got  a  whole 
packing  case  full  of  food  at  Mahony's  this  morning. 
Molly  said  I  was  to.  It's  in  the  cabin  now,  and  any- 
way there  are  always  lots  of  lobsters  and  potatoes 
on  Inisheeny.  What  more  can  anyone  possibly 
want?" 

"And  I've  brought  a  pound  of  tea,"  said  Molly. 

She  was  halfway  down  the  steps  when  she  spoke, 
and  was  holding  on  to  the  small  trunk.  It  seemed 
inclined  to  make  a  rush  for  the  dinghy  on  its  own 
account.  It  was  resting  on  the  slippery  part  of 
the  steps  where  the  seaweed  grows,  and  would  have 
come  down  fast  if  it  had  started  at  all. 


54      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

"China  tea,"  said  Molly.  "Father  isn't  allowed 
to  drink  Indian  tea  on  account  of  his  digestion." 

I  began  to  feel  seriously  annoyed.  A  man  who 
is  particular  about  tea,  and  knows  the  meaning  of 
the  word  digestion,  ought  not  to  be  taken  out  to 
sea  in  a  small  boat.  He  would  certainly  be  very 
ill,  and  therefore  very  bad  tempered,  after  feeding 
for  two  days  on  tinned  food  from  Mahony's  shop. 
A  diet  of  lobsters  and  potatoes  would  probably  kill 
him. 

My  only  consolation  was  that  I  had  my  half- 
pound  of  tobacco  in  my  pocket,  and  an  unopened 
bottle  of  whisky  in  the  "Aurora's"  locker.  I  also 
had  on  board  plenty  of  methylated  spirit  for  the 
^Primus"  stove. 


CHAPTER  V 

TOMMY  and  I  packed  the  trunk,  the  two 
small  bags,  and  the  bundle  into  the  dinghy. 
She  is  a  small  boat,  designed  originally 
to  hold  three  people.  I  was  very  doubtful  about 
the  wisdom  of  taking  four  people  and  some  heavy 
luggage  in  her,  though  we  had  only  a  short  way 
to  go  to  reach  the  "Aurora."  However,  Tommy 
seemed  sure  that  he  could  manage  it,  and  I  felt  that 
if  we  did  sink  no  great  harm  would  be  done.  There 
were  plenty  of  people  on  the  pier  to  rescue  us,  and 
a  wetting  might  perhaps  cool  off  the  Floyds'  de- 
termination to  go  to  Inisheeny. 

We  nearly  did  sink  at  the  very  start,  for  Dr. 
Floyd  turned  out  to  be  one  of  those  men  who  are 
awkward  in  boats.  We  perched  Molly  in  the  bow. 
Tommy  took  the  oars  and  sat  on  the  forward  thwart. 
We  stowed  the  luggage  amidships  and  I  sat  on  one 
side  of  the  stern  sheets.  The  other  side  was  left 
clear  for  Floyd,  and  he  had  nothing  to  do  but  step 
in  and  sit  down  gently.  Instead  of  stepping  he 
fell,  or  jumped  into  the  boat  and  sat  down  with  such 
a  heavy  thump  that  the  water  lipped  over  the  gun- 
wale and  wet  him.  Many  men,  indeed  most  men, 
very  much  dislike  getting  the  seats  of  their  trousers 
wet.  I  could  have  excused  Floyd  if  he  had  got 

55 


56      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

angry  and  abused  me,  though  the  accident  was  his 
'own  fault.  But  he  took  the  wetting  quite  good-tem- 
peredly.  He  might  get  "ratty,"  as  Molly  warned 
me,  about  crannogs.  In  other  ways  he  was  evidently 
a  good  tempered  man.  I  began  to  hope  that  he 
would  not  be  an  impossible  companion  in  the  "Au- 
rora's'5 cabin. 

Tommy  pushed  off  cautiously,  and  paddled  out 
towards  the  "Aurora"  with  short  easy  strokes.  We 
were  badly  down  by  the  head,  and  if  he  had  rowed 
at  all  hard  he  would  have  driven  the  boat's  nose 
under.  Then  Molly  would  have  got  as  wet  as  her 
father  in  much  the  same  way.  As  we  passed  the  end 
of  the  pier  I  saw  Sergeant  Morris  staring  at  us 
solemnly.  He  evidently  meant  to  keep  his  eye  on 
us  up  to  the  last  possible  moment.  After  that  he 
would,  no  doubt,  go  and  make  his  report  to  Patter- 
son, who  would  realise  my  perfidy. 

We  started,  after  suffering  more  than  the  usual 
fuss  and  discomfort.  My  idea  was  to  pack  the 
Floyds  into  the  cabin  until  we  were  well  under  way ; 
but  that  proved  to  be  impossible.  The  tent,  the 
trunk,  the  two  bags,  and  the  packing-case  from 
Mahony's  shop  filled  the  cabin;  and,  in  any  case, 
Molly  was  determined  to  help  Tommy  and  me.  She 
displayed  great  activity  and  a  talent  for  entangling 
herself  in  sheets  and  halyards.  Her  father  was 
much  easier  to  manage.  After  he  had  been  hit  on 
the  head  by  the  boom  once,  he  was  content  to  sit 
on  the  floor  of  the  cockpit,  and  did  not  complain 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      57 

when  we  walked  on  him  in  our  effort  to  get  the  ropes 
we  wanted  clear  of  Molly.  I  began  to  feel  some 
respect  and  a  good  deal  of  liking  for  Floyd. 

Our  sail,  once  we  got  clear  e :  the  harbour,  was  a 
very  pleasant  one.  The  breeze,  which  had  been 
easterly  early  in  the  day,  had  followed  the  sun 
round  and  was  southerly  when  we  started.  This 
gave  us  a  free  reach  for  Inisheeny.  We  had  to  take 
a  pull  on  our  sheets  later  on  as  the  breeze  got  west- 
erly. But  except  for  that  we  had  nothing  to  do 
but  sit  still  and  look  about  us.  The  sea  was  per- 
fectly calm,  so  there  was  no  excuse  for  getting 
seasick.  Tommy  took  Molly  forward,  and  they  sat 
on  the  deck  with  their  feet  dangling  in  the  sail 
locker.  From  the  scraps  of  their  talk,  which  I  over- 
heard, I  fancy  he  gave  her  an  exhaustive  lecture  on 
the  rigging  and  gear  of  a  cutter.  Floyd,  when  I 
allowed  him  to  get  up  from  the  floor  of  the  cock- 
pit, sat  quietly  beside  me  and  said  he  was  enjoying 
himself.  He  seemed  to  be  a  placid,  singularly  gen- 
tle man.  But  I  kept  off  the  subject  of  crannogs. 
There  is  no  use  taking  risks,  and  if  there  is  a  raw 
spot  in  a  man's  temper  it  is  foolish  to  go  poking 
at  it. 

We  had,  indeed,  no  difficulty  in  finding  things  to 
talk  about.  Floyd  is  in  or  about  my  own  age,  and 
I  soon  discovered  that  we  were  both  Trinity  men, 
though  he  had  been  a  year  junior  to  me.  We 
launched  into  reminiscences,  and  I  found  that  Floyd 
had  taken  a  minor  part  in  a  "rag"  which  I  have  al- 


58      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

ways  been  proud  of  having  organised.  We 
chuckled  together  over  our  success  in  driving  a 
bullock  up  two  flights  of  stairs  and  tying  it  to  the 
door  of  the  Junior  Dean's  rooms.  Floyd,  by  his 
own  confession,  had  done  little  except  look  on  and 
cheer,  but  it  pleased  me  to  think  he  had  done  even 
that.  I  felt  sure  then  that  Patterson  was  quite 
wrong  in  supposing  him  to  be  one  of  those  Intel- 
lectuals who  inspire  revolutions.  Trinity  College, 
Dublin,  has  its  faults  and  failings  as  a  university, 
but  no  one  who  has  really  shared  the  spirit  of  the 
place  ever  becomes  either  an  Intellectual  or  a  Revo- 
lutionary. The  whole  genius  of  Trinity  is  inimical 
to  that  kind  of  portentous  solemnity  which  is  a  nec- 
essary part  of  the  character  of  all  reformers.  And 
Floyd  had  been  not  merely  in  but  of  the  College. 
A  man  who  had  taken  a  part,  even  a  small  part,  in 
pushing  a  bullock  upstairs,  could  not  afterwards  take 
any  of  our  great  movements  of  thought  quite  seri- 
ously. And  how  can  a  man  be  an  intellectual  leader 
if  he  is  not  quite  sure  of  the  gravity  of  the  times  and 
of  his  own  immense  importance? 

This  consideration  cheered  me.  I  felt  I  could 
give  a  satisfactory  account  of  myself  to  Patterson. 
If  the  Floyds  were  not,  as  I  was  convinced,  emis- 
saries of  a  secret  society,  Patterson  would  have  no 
object  in  following  them  about  and  chasing  them 
out  to  Inisheeny  in  my  boat.  I  was  further  cheered 
by  a  hail  from  Tommy. 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      59 

"I  say,  Uncle  Terence/-  he  said,  "what  about  a 
bit  of  lunch?" 

It  was  after  two  o'clock,  and  quite  time  that  we 
ate  something.  But  I  had  nothing  to  offer  my" 
guests  except  the  two  tinned  tongues  and  the  whisky. 
There  was  not  even  any  water  on  board,  so  Molly's 
pound  of  tea  would  be  no  use  to  her.  We  were  en- 
tirely dependent  on  the  contents  of  Mahony's  pack- 
ing-case. 

"What  did  you  get  at  Mahony's?"  I  asked.  "I 
hope  you  thought  of  bread." 

Bread  was  just  the  sort  of  common-place,  essen- 
tial thing  which  a  boy  like  Tommy  would  forget  if 
left  to  himself.  Many  people,  much  older  than 
Tommy,  go  through  life  with  the  idea  that  bread, 
potatoes,  and  other  ordinary  foods  are  always  there, 
naturally,  and  of  their  own  accord;  that  in  cater- 
ing one  may  ignore  them  and  concentrate  one's  at- 
tention on  butter  and  jam,  or  seakale  and  aspara- 
gus. Tommy's  answer  to  my  question  did  not  re- 
assure me  much. 

"I  don't  know  whether  there's  bread  or  not,"  he 
said.  "I  told  Mahony  to  pack  up  a  good-sized  case 
of  miscellaneous  eatables.  I  meant  to  choose  the 
things  myself,  but  just  as  I  was  going  to  begin  I 
saw  you  passing  the  shop  and  I  had  to  bolt  out  and 
catch  you.  Afterwards  there  wasn't  time  to  talk 
to  Mahony.  I  had  to  do  a  sprint  down  to  the  quay 
to  tell  Molly  what  you  said  about  the  boat.  But  I 


60      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  .NIGHT 

expect  Mahony  will  have  put  in  everything  we  want. 
It's  a  good  big  case  and  very  heavy." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "you'd  better  open  it  and  let  us 
know  the  worst." 

He  and  Molly  crept  aft. 

"I  call  this  exciting,"  she  said.  "I  do  love  not 
knowing  what  I'm  going  to  get  to  eat.  I  do  the 
housekeeping  at  home,"  she  explained  to  me,  "and 
so  I  always  do  know.  Otherwise  there  wouldn't 
be  anything,  and  that  would  be  worse  than  there 
being  something  that  you  know.  Besides  being  very 
hard  on  father." 

She  and  Tommy  crept  into  the  cabin.  I  heard 
them  hammering  at  the  packing-case.  I  do  not 
know  what  instrument  they  used,  but  it  was  evi- 
dently quite  ineffective.  Tommy  came  out  in  a  few 
minutes  and  fished  a  marlin  spike  out  of  a  locker  at 
my  feet.  It  seemed  to  help  them.  At  all  events 
they  stopped  banging  the  packing  case  about. 

I  do  not  think  that  Mahony  was  deliberately  ma- 
licious. I  am  sure  that  he  is  not  given  to  playing 
practical  jokes  on  his  customers.  He  must  have 
gathered  an  entirely  wrong  idea  from  Tommy's 
order  for  miscellaneous  eatables.  Either  he  thought 
that  Tommy  wanted  to  supply  a  tuck  box  to  take 
back  to  school,  or  else  he  realised  that  the  order 
gave  him  a  splendid  opportunity  for  getting  rid  of 
surplus  stock  which  had  been  hanging  on  his  hands. 
The  case  contained  six  pots  of  jam,  made  in  Ire- 
land, and  labelled,  "Quince  and  Peach,"  ten  tins  of 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      61 

golden  syrup,  two  pounds  of  large  round  white 
sweets  which  Tommy  said  were  peppermint  creams, 
and  a  seven-pound  tin  of  biscuits  called  Orange 
Sandwich  Wafers,  and  twelve  bottles  of  lemonade. 

Molly,  if  she  really  enjoyed  not  knowing  what 
she  was  going  to  get  to  eat,  ought  to  have  been 
greatly  pleased.  I  can  hardly  think  of  a  more  un- 
expected luncheon.  I  am  bound  to  say  for  her  and 
Tommy  that  they  took  Mahony's  miscellaneous  eat- 
ables as  a  joke,  and  Floyd  did  not  seem  to  mind 
having  to  lunch  on  sweet  biscuits  and  golden  syrup. 
Indeed,  I  was,  I  am  ashamed  to  say,  the  only  one 
of  the  party  whose  temper  was  at  all  ruffled.  How- 
ever, I  made  Tommy  get  me  out  my  own  tinned 
tongue  and  I  made  the  lemonade  drinkable  by  lacing 
it  with  whisky;  so  I  did  not  do  badly,  and  recov- 
ered my  temper  in  the  end. 

Floyd  shared  the  tinned  tongue  with  me,  hacking 
chunks  of  it  out  with  his  penknife.  He  said  he  did 
not  care  what  he  ate  and  was  quite  ready  to  satisfy 
himself  with  quince  and  peach  jam.  But  I  had 
some  pity  on  him.  I  was  getting  to  like  him  more 
and  more.  His  cheerful  indifference  to  discomfort 
and  his  extreme  amiability  made  me  regard  him  as 
an  excellent  companion  for  a  prolonged  picnic. 
Molly  and  Tommy  lunched  quite  contentedly  on 
Orange  Sandwich  biscuits  dipped  in  golden  syrup. 
Now  and  then  they  took  a  peppermint  cream  or  two, 
and  they  drank  three  bottles  of  lemonade  between 


62      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

them.  They  actually  seemed  to  enjoy  the  diet,  for 
they  went  on  eating  until  I  had  to  stop  them. 

We  had  made  a  good  passage  and  were  'off  the 
entrance  to  the  bay  at  the  east  side  of  Inisheeny. 
I  sent  Tommy  forward  to  take  the  foresail  off  the 
boat,  and  to  get  the  anchor  and  chain  on  deck.  Molly 
very  obligingly  packed  the  remains  of  Mahony's  mis- 
cellaneous eatables  into  the  case  in  the  cabin.  She 
did  not  offer  to  swab  up  the  smears  of  golden  syrup 
which  she  and  Tommy  left  on  the  seat  of  the  cock- 
pit. 

I  never  tow  a  dinghy  out  to  Inisheeny  with  me, 
for  I  can  always  calculate  on  one  of  the  island  in- 
habitants putting  off  to  take  me  ashore.  I  was 
not  surprised  to  see  a  man  launching  a  curragh 
when  we  entered  the  bay.  I  was  rather  surprised, 
when  I  rounded  up  the  "Aurora"  and  gave  Tommy 
the  word  to  let  go  the  anchor,  to  see  that  the  man 
who  came  out  to  us  was  Poacher  Quin.  He  seldom 
goes  to  the  island  except  when  I  take  him  or  when 
he  is  required  to  sail  Mrs.  Maher's  "Seven  Daugh- 
ters." I  had  seen  him  the  day  before  at  Dunally 
fair.  I  realised  that  he  must  have  left  Carrigahooly 
late  that  night  or  very  early  the  next  morning  in 
order  to  reach  Inisheeny  before  us.  I  did  not  un- 
derstand why  he  should  do  either  the  one  or  the 
other. 

Molly  was  as  eager  to  go  ashore  as  sailors  are 
who  arrive  at  tropical  islands  after  months  of  voy- 
aging, and  see  bananas  hanging  from  the  branches 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      63 

of  banana  trees.  Tommy,  of  course,  wanted  to  go 
with  her,  and  I  had  not  the  heart  to  keep  him  in  the 
boat  though  he  ought  to  have  helped  me  to  make 
up  the  sails.  Dr.  Floyd  became  exceedingly  rest- 
less as  soon  as  the  anchor  was  dropped.  I  could 
see  that  he  did  not  want  to  stay  on  the  "Aurora" 
a  moment  longer  than  he  need.  I  was  glad  enough 
to  get  rid  of  him.  He  would  have  been  very  much 
in  my  way. 

Quin  appeared  to  be  unwilling  to  take  such  a 
large  party,  though  the  curragh  would  have  held 
four  easily.  He  began  to  make  excuses  when  he 
saw  that  he  would  have  to  take  a  lot  of  luggage  as 
well  as  three  passengers.  Molly's  tent  had  to  go, 
of  course,  and  one  of  the  two  handbags.  When 
Tommy  hauled  the  trunk  on  deck  I  reminded  Floyd 
that  he  was  to  sleep  on  the  yacht,  and  had  better 
unpack  anything  he  wanted  before  the  trunk  went 
ashore.  This  was  a  troublesome  business,  for  all 
his  clothes  were  at  the  bottom  of  the  trunk,  and 
Molly's  on  top.  However,  we  succeeded  in  the  end 
in  getting  out  a  suit  of  pyjamas,  a  pair  of  boots^  a 
sponge,  various  brushes,  and  a  razor.  Then  we 
packed  Molly's  belongings  again  and  passed  the 
trunk  over  the  side  to  Quin.  He  received  it,  the 
tent,  the  bag,  and  Dr.  Floyd  with  growls  of  pro- 
test. I  could  not  make  out  what  was  the  matter 
with  the  man.  He  is  generally  most  good-tempered 
and  helpful.  At  the  last  moment  Molly  dived  into 
the  cabin  and  came  up  with  a  tin  of  golden  syrup* 


64      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

a  parcel  of  biscuits,  and  a  few  dozen  peppermint 
creams.  She  said  she  felt  sure  that  she  would  be 
hungry  again  before  long. 

As  the  curragh  pushed  off  I  shouted  to  Quin  to 
bring  me  back  a  loaf  of  bread,  a  can  of  water,  and 
some  eggs.  Then  I  set  to  work  to  tidy  the  "Au- 


rora." 


CHAPTER  VI 

I  HAD  just  stowed  the  jib  in  the  locker,  and 
I  was  getting  the  cover  on  the  mainsail  when 
I  saw  Poacher  Quin  rowing  out  again.  It 
surprised  me  to  see  him  so  soon.  I  had  told  him 
to  get  me  eggs,  a  loaf  of  bread,  and  some  water. 
The  water  he  might  have  got  at  once,  but  I  felt 
sure  he  would  have  to  visit  three  or  four  houses 
before  he  collected  a  dozen  eggs,  and  the  bread 
would  have  to  be  baked  for  me.  Inisheeny  is  not 
an  island  like  Jersey  or  Malta.  You  cannot  walk 
into  a  shop  and  ask  for  a  loaf  of  bread,  because  there 
are  no  shops  to  walk  into,  and  no  island  woman 
bakes  more  loaves  than  she  wants  for  her  own  fam- 
ily. I  expected  that  it  would  take  Quin  three  or 
four  hours  to  get  what  I  wanted. 

He  had  another  man  with  him  in  the  curragh 
whom  I  recognised  as  Peter  Flanagan,  known  as 
Peter  Flanagan  Tom  to  distinguish  him  from  his 
cousin,  Peter  Flanagan  Pat.  I  had  at  one  time  or 
another  bought  lobsters  from  both  Peter  Flana- 
gans, and  I  knew  them  well. 

The  curragh  slipped  neatly  alongside.  Poacher 
Quin,  grasping  the  "Aurora's"  gunwale  with  one 
hand,  performed  an  unnecessary  introduction. 

"It's  my  cousin  Peter  Flanagan,"  he  said,  nodding 
65 


66      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

towards  the  man  who  sat  in  the  stern  of  the  cur- 
ragh,  "the  same  that  they  do  be  calling  Peter  Flana- 
gan Tom,  and  he'd  be  thankful  if  he  could  have  a 
word  with  you  at  any  time  that  might  be  conven- 
ient to  your  Reverence." 

"One  time  is  much  the  same  to  me  as  another," 
I  said.  "I'm  here  for  three  or  four  days  at  least. 
Come  on  board,  won't  you?" 

Peter  Flanagan  Tom  stepped  with  quiet  dignity 
on  to  the  deck  of  the  "Aurora."  He  stood  near  the 
mast,  a  tall  grave  man.  He  was  barefooted  and 
dressed  in  clothes  which  were  tattered  where  they 
were  not  patched.  His  face  was  bristly  with  a 
three  days'  growth  of  black  beard.  He  removed  his 
hat  and  stood  bareheaded.  I  saw  that  his  hair  was 
long,  uncombed  and  tangled.  But  he  had  the  air 
and  bearing  of  an  aristocrat.  It  is  one  of  the  pe- 
culiarities of  these  western  islanders,  men  with 
Spanish  as  well  as  Celtic  blood  in  their  veins,  that 
they  are  all  gentlemen.  They  may  be  and  often  are 
extremely  poor;  but  they  retain  a  certain  romantic 
personal  dignity  and  they  never  fail  in  the  outward 
observances  of  courtesy.  They  have  had  a  poor 
time  of  it  for  the  last  century  or  so,  in  a  world 
which  supposed  that  money  made  a  gentleman,  and 
that  only  those  with  large  banking  accounts  could 
claim  the  title.  They  are  likely  to  have  a  still  poorer 
time  in  the  fine  new  world  of  democracy  which  is 
building  itself  up  on  the  belief  that  there  is  no  such 
thing  as  a  gentleman  at  all. 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      67 

Poacher  Quin  slipped  on  board  and  let  his  cur- 
ragh  drop  astern  to  the  length  of  her  painter.  He 
took  from  my  hands  the  lace  of  the  sail-cover  at 
which  I  was  working  and  left  me  free  to  talk  to 
his  cousin. 

"I  hope,"  said  Peter  Flanagan,  "that  I  see  your 
Reverence  well?  Good  health  is  above  all  things, 
surely,  and  if  it's  the  will  of  God  that  a  man  keeps 
his  health  there's  nothing  else  that  need  trouble 
him." 

That  is,  no  doubt,  perfectly  true;  but  I  did  not 
suppose  that  my  guest  had  come  all  the  way  from 
his  island  home  to  tell  me  so.  Yet  for  a  while  he 
said  no  more.  I  got  out  my  pipe  and  tobacco  pouch. 
I  offered  Peter  Flanagan  a  fill  of  the  excellent  mix- 
ture which  I  smoke.  He  shook  his  head  gravely 
and  drew  a  small  cake  of  black  plug  tobacco  from 
the  ragged  pocket  of  his  trousers.  There  was  some- 
thing regal  in  his  refusal  to  rush  into  the  business 
which  had  brought  him  out.  Kings,  at  all  events 
Oriental  kings,  whose  subjects  pray  that  they  may 
live  for  ever,  can  afford  to  be  contemptuous  of  time. 
So  can  people  who  live  on  islands  like  Inisheeny. 
It  was  Poacher  Quin,  a  man  spoiled  by  his  associa- 
tion with  the  degraded  civilisation  of  the  mainland, 
who  brought  us  to  the  point.  He  had  finished  lac- 
ing the  mainsail  cover  and  was  swabbing  the  smears 
of  golden  syrup  with  a  rag.  I  felt  grateful  to  him. 
I  had  rather  shrunk  from  the  job  of  cleaning  out 
the  cockpit. 


68     ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

"It's  about  them  ones,"  he  said,  "that  my  cousin 
Peter  wants  to  speak  to  you." 

He  nodded  over  his  shoulder  towards  the  shore. 
I  looked  and  saw  Molly  and  Tommy  engaged  in  a 
confused  struggle  with  the  tent.  They  were  pitch- 
ing it  in  a  small  field  below  one  of  the  cottages,  and 
two  calves  were  entangling  themselves  in  the  guy 
ropes.  A  large  number  of  young  Flanagans — all 
the  Flanagans  under  thirteen  years  of  age — were 
looking  on. 

"Any  friends  of  your  Reverence's,"  said  Peter 
Flanagan  Tom,  "is  welcome  to  Inisheeny,  and  any* 
thing  there  is  on  the  island — though  God  knows 
there's  not  much — would  be  given,  and  a  welcome 
along  with  it  to  anyone  you  might  bring  out  here 
in  your  yacht.  For  we  know  that  your  Reverence 
has  always  been  a  good  friend  to  the  people  of 
Inisheeny,  and  any  lady  or  gentleman  that  is  friends 
of  yours  is  friends  of  ours." 

This  was  well  said,  and  as  an  expression  of  con- 
fidence in  me  was  deeply  touching.  But  I  was  not 
prepared  to  go  security  for  the  Floyds.  I  thought 
Molly  a  charming  girl,  and  her  father  seemed  to 
me  an  inoffensive  man  with  no  malice  about  him; 
but  I  did  not  care  for  the  responsibility  of  seeing 
the  whole  island  handed  over  to  them  merely  be- 
cause they  came  out  in  my  boat. 

"They're  not  exactly  intimate  friends  of  mine," 
I  said;  "that  is  to  say,  the  old  gentleman  and  the 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      69 

young  lady  aren't.  I  know  my  own  nephew,  of 
course,  and  I'll  answer  for  him." 

"Sure,  nobody  minds  him,"  said  Poacher  Quin. 
"What  is  he ;  only  a  lad  with  less  sense  than  most  ? 
He  might  be  running  to  and  fro  round  the  island  for 
the  rest  of  his  life,  and  who'd  care?" 

"Exactly,"  I  said;  "and  as  for  the  other  two, 
Dr.  Floyd  and  his  daughter " 

"What  do  they  want  out  here?"  said  Poacher 
Quin.  "That's  what  we'd  like  to  know." 

"Anything  we  have,"  said  Peter  Flanagan, 
"they're  welcome  to,  being  friends  of  your  Rev- 
erence. Only " 

"I  don't  know  what  they  want,"  I  said.  "I 
know  no  more  about  them  than  you  do.  The  only 
hint  I've  had — look  here,  are  there  any  crannogs  on 
Ini  sheeny?" 

Flanagan  and  Quin  looked  at  each  other  doubt- 
fully. I  saw  at  once  that  neither  one  nor  other  of 
them  had  ever  heard  the  word  "crannog"  before. 
But  they  were  not  going  to  own  up  to  such  ig- 
norance. 

"Crannogs  ?"  said  Poacher  Quin.  "I  don't  know 
did  ever  I  hear  of  anyone  in  Ishineeny  catching 
one  of  them.  Did  ever  you  come  across  a  crannog, 
Peter  Tom?" 

"I  did  not,"  said  Peter  Flanagan.  "I'm  not  say- 
ing there  never  was  any.  There  might  have  been 
in  my  father's  time  or  before  him.  However,  if 
there  was,  they've  died  out  now.  However,  if  the 


70      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

gentleman  and  the  young  lady  wants  to  be  hunting 
the  like  there's  no  harm  in  it,  and  there  won't  be  a 
word  said.  Only " 

He  paused  there,  and  I  knew  that  we  were  at 
last  getting  to  the  matter  which  had  brought  him 
out  to  the  "Aurora."  Dr.  Floyd  and  Molly  were 
to  be  made  free  of  the  island,  but  there  was  to  be 
some  limit  to  their  liberty.  I  waited  anxiously  to 
hear  what  it  was. 

"You  know  the  bit  of  a  bog  at  the  back  of  my 
house?"  said  Peter  Flanagan. 

I  knew  it  well,  though  I  should  not  have  called  it 
a  bog.  There  are  bits  of  firm  ground  in  most  bogs. 
That  particular  piece  of  ground  at  the  back  of  Peter 
Flanagan's  cottage  was  more  like  a  lake.  There 
were  no  dry  patches  in  it  at  all.  But  it  was  not 
exactly  a  lake  either.  It  was  covered  with  reeds, 
rushes,  and  had  patches  of  a  deceitful  kind  of  bright 
green  vegetation  that  looked  firm,  but  sank  under 
the  lightest  pressure  of  a  foot. 

"It  would  be  as  well,"  said  Peter  Flanagan,  "if 
the  gentleman  and  the  young  lady  didn't  go  there." 

I  felt  relieved.  It  seemed  extremely  unlikely  that 
either  of  the  Floyds  would  want  to  spend  their  time 
wading  about  in  slimy  mud.  I  was  wiser  than  the 
Flanagans  in  one  matter.  I  knew  that  crannogs  are 
neither  birds  nor  fish.  I  knew  that  people  dig 
things  out  of  them.  It  is  clearly  impossible  to  dig 
in  the  dilapidated  lake  at  the  back  of  Peter  Flana- 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      71 

gan's  house,  so  I  naturally  supposed  that  there  could 
not  be  any  crannogs  there. 

"It  isn't  only  my  Cousin  Peter  that  minds,"  said 
Poacher  Quin.  "There's  not  one  in  the  island  but 
would  be  vexed  if  them  ones  were  to  go  meddling 
with  the  bog.  I'd  be  angry  myself,  so  I  would." 

"I'll  tell  them  not  to  go  near  it,"  I  said;  "and  I 
think  I  can  safely  promise  that  they  won't." 

"I'm  thankful  to  your  Reverence,"  said  Peter 
Flanagan  Tom;  "and  I  needn't  say  that  if  there's 
anything  we  can  do  in  the  way  of  making  your 
friends  comfortable — such  as  a  couple  of  lobsters 
now,  or  a  crab — I've  heard  that  there's  people  that 
eats  crabs,  though  I'd  be  sorry  to  do  the  like  my- 
self." 

He  had  a  chance  of  making  good  his  promise 
sooner  than  either  he  or  I  expected.  Tommy  came 
alongside  in  another  curragh  while  Flanagan  was 
speaking.  He  jumped  on  deck. 

"Catch  hold  of  that  curragh  for  a  minute,"  he 
said  to  Poacher  Quin. 

He  pushed  past  me  and  dived  into  the  cabin.  He 
came  out  a  minute  later  with  one  of  the  seat  cush- 
ions and  a  blanket  in  his  arms. 

"Hullo,"  I  said,  "what  are  you  going  to  do  with 
that  cushion?" 

"I'm  taking  it  ashore  for  Molly  to  sleep  on,"  he 
said. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  I  must  make  some  sort  of 
protest.  I  had  allowed  myself  to  be  hustled  into 


72      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

an  expedition  to  Inisheeny  which  I  did  not  want 
to  make.  I  had  been  let  in  for  spending  a  night — 
perhaps  several  nights — on  the  "Aurora,"  when  I 
meant  to  go  home  and  sleep  comfortably  in  my  own 
bed.  But  it  was  Molly  who  had  got  the  better  of 
me.  And  Molly  is  a  very  pretty  girl.  My  self- 
respect  revolted  against  being  bullied  by  my  own 
nephew,  a  sixteen-year-old  schoolboy,  whose  house- 
master ought  to  cane  him  oftener  than  he  does.  Be- 
sides, there  are  only  two  cushions  in  the  " Aurora' s" 
cabin.  If  Tommy  carried  off  one  of  them 

"That's  all  very  well,"  I  said;  "but  if  you  take 
that  cushion  what's  her  father  to  sleep  on?  Or, 
rather,  what  am  I  to  sleep  on,  for  I'll  have  to  let 
him  have  the  other  cushion?  I  don't  mind  doing 
without  the  blanket.  The  nights  aren't  cold.  But 
I  really  cannot  sleep  on  bare  boards." 

"I  don't  see  how  Molly  can  sleep  on  the  ground," 
said  Tommy.  "She  must  have  something  under 
her." 

I  suppose  I  am  unchivalrous  and  lacking  in  proper 
consideration  for  the  weaker  sex.  But  I  am  an 
oldish  man  and  Molly  is  a  young  girl.  I  felt  that 
she  was  better  able  to  do  without  the  cushion  than 
I  was.  And  the  ground,  especially  nice,  grassy 
ground,  is  much  softer  than  the  bare  boards  which 
form  the  seats  of  the  "Aurora's"  cabin. 

"What  the  young  lady  ought  ,to  have,"  said 
Poacher  Quin,  "is  an  armful  of  hay  under  her.  Is 
there  e'er  a  lock  of  hay  on  the  island,  Peter  Torn?" 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      73 

"There  is,"  said  Peter  Flanagan.  "There's  two 
ass  loads  of  nice  hay  in  Peter  Pat's  cow-house;  and 
the  young  lady  will  be  welcome  to  it." 

"There's  worse  beds  than  a  wisp  of  hay,"  said 
Poacher  Quin.  "Many's  the  time  I've  slept  on  it. 
I'd  rather  sleep  on  it  any  time  than  on  the  like  of 
that." 

He  glanced  scornfully  at  my  cushion  which 
Tommy  still  held  in  his  arms. 

"And  you  needn't  be  taking  the  blanket  with  you 
either,"  said  Poacher  Quin.  "What  is  there  to  hin- 
der the  young  lady  getting  in  under  the  hay  if  you 
lay  it  out  thick  for  her?" 

"So  you  can  just  put  that  cushion  back  where 
you  got  it,  Tommy,"  I  said. 

He  obeyed  me;  but  I  could  see  that  he  was  not 
altogether  satisfied.  He  was  still  less  satisfied  after 
Poacher  Quin's  next  remark. 

"She'll  be  as  snug  as  a  bug  in  a  rug,"  he  said, 
"when  she  has  an  armful  of  hay  out  of  Peter  Pat's 
cow-house." 

There  was  no  question  about  a  rug  in  or  on 
Molly's  bed.  I  was  not  quite  so  sure  about  the  bug. 
Nor  was  Tommy.  Hay  taken  straight  out  of  Peter 
Flanagan  Pat's  cow  byre  might  have  anything  in 
it.  Mrs.  Maher  had  assured  us  before  we  left  Car- 
rigahooly  that  something  of  the  sort  might  be  ex- 
pected. 

Peter  Flanagan  hauled  the  curragh  alongside  and 
prepared  to  go  ashore. 


74      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

"I  may  as  well  be  going,  too,"  said  Tommy.  "I'd 
like  to  see  about  that  hay,  unless  you  want  me  for 
anything,  Uncle  Terence?" 

Poacher  Quin  had  cleaned  up  the  "Aurora"  and 
put  everything  in  its  place.  I  did  not  want  Tommy 
in  the  least.  Indeed,  there  was  no  point  in  my 
staying  on  board  when  I  might  be  stretching  my 
legs  on  shore. 

"I  don't  want  you  now,"  I  said,  "though  you'd 
have  been  some  use  to  me  an  hour  ago.  I  think  I'll 
go  ashore  with  you.  I've  a  message  for  Dr.  Floyd. 
I  suppose  I'll  find  him  in  the  tent." 

"No,"  said  Tommy.  "He's  not  there.  At  least 
he  wasn't  when  I  left.  In  fact,  he  never  was  there 
at  all.  He  went  off  by  himself  directly  we  got  on 
shore." 

He  had  evidently  begun  his  search  for  crannogs ; 
but  I  was  not  in  the  least  uneasy.  It  was  very  un- 
likely that  he  would  go  to  the  bog  behind  Peter 
Flanagan  Tom's  house,  and  still  more  unlikely  that 
he  would  walk  into  it  if  he  got  there. 

We  rowed  ashore  together,  Peter  Flanagan  and 
Quin  leading  in  one  curragh,  Tommy  rowing  me  in 
the  other.  We  landed  at  a  rude  causeway  of  large 
stones  which  gives  a  sort  of  shelter  to  the  island 
curraghs  when  the  sea  is  making  in  the  bay.  It 
is  a  very  rough  piece  of  work  and  it  gets  washed 
away  nearly  every  winter.  There  is  no  Government 
pier  at  Inisheeny.  It  is,  I  believe,  the  only  place  in 
the  west  of  Ireland  where  the  Government  have  not 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      75 

built  a  pier.  Many  places  have  two  and  even  three 
of  these  structures,  and  I  have  signed  six  petitions 
to  different  Chief  Secretaries,  making  marks  for  all 
the  Flanagans  below  my  own  name,  asking  for  a 
pier.  I  do  not  suppose  that  the  thing  will  ever  be 
done  now.  The  epoch  of  pier-building  has  passed, 
and  we  are  not  likely  to  get  back  to  anything  like 
it  in  my  time.  The  philosophic  historian  will,  some 
day,  seek  to  explain  the  waves  of  building  energy 
which  have  passed  over  Ireland.  There  was  first 
the  craze  for  building  round  towers.  I  suppose  the 
man  who  built  them  must  have  meant  them  to  be 
of  some  use.  Then  came  church-building,  which 
up  to  a  point  was  useful,  but  was  plainly  overdone. 
Ireland,  to-day,  is  littered  with  ruined  churches. 
Then  we — or  some  of  our  conquerors — built  castles 
which  must  have  been  almost  as  uncomfortable  to 
live  in  as  the  round  towers.  Later  on  we  built  coun- 
try houses  for  the  gentry,  grandiose  and  rather  ugly 
mansions,  most  of  them  so  big  that  their  owners 
could  not  afford  to  live  in  them.  Then,  in  my  own 
time,  we  took  to  piers.  Some  day  I  daresay  we^shall 
have  removed  all  the  stones  from  the  surface  of 
Ireland  and  built  them  into  structures  which  will 
fall  into  ruins.  The  next  thing  will  probably  be 
prisons.  Our  present  Governments — the  official  one 
in  the  Castle,  and  the  unofficial  Republican  one — 
are  both  bent  on  putting  us  all  into  prison,  moved, 
no  doubt,  by  a  desire  to  improve  our  morals.  The 
Republican  Government  has  no  jails  ready  to  hand, 


76      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

so  it  must  build.  The  other  Government  must  build, 
too,  for  it  has  not  nearly  jails  enough. 

Tommy  went  off  with  Peter  Flanagan  to  get  the 
wisp  of  hay  for  Molly's  bed.  Quin  set  out  on  his 
search  for  the  eggs  and  the  bread  I  wanted.  I 
walked  up  to  the  tent  to  see  how  Molly  was  getting 
on.  I  found  her  entirely  surrounded  by  young 
Flanagans,  who  stood  with  their  mouths  open  like 
chickens  with  the  pip.  Molly  was  feeding  them  with 
golden  syrup -which  she  scooped  out  of  the  tin  with 
a  scollop  shell. 

"Aren't  they  darlings?"  she  said.  "I  never  saw 
anything  so  sweet  as  that  one." 

She  pointed  out  a  small  chubby  boy.  He  cer- 
tainly would  have  been  sweet  to  the  taste  if  anyone 
had  bitten  him,  for  he  had  golden  syrup  all  over 
him.  I  would  not  have  touched  him  for  half-a- 
crown.  I  would  not,  indeed,  have  cared  to  touch 
Molly  either.  No  one  can  scoop  golden  syrup  out 
of  a  tin  with  a  scollop  shell  without  letting  a  little 
of  it  trickle  down. 

"His  name's  Flanagan,"  she  said.  "In  fact,  all 
their  names  seem  to  be  Flanagan." 

"There  are  six  families  on  the  island,"  I  said, 
"all  Flanagans.  There's  Peter  Flanagan  Tom,  with 
his  wife,  and  Peter  Flanagan  Pat,  and  Mike  Flana- 
gan Tom,  and  Mike  Flanagan  Mike,  and  John 
Flanagan,  and " 

"Why  is  he  only  John?"  said  Molly.     "Oughtn't 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      77 

he  to  have  some  other  name  tacked  on  when  all 
the  rest  have?" 

"It's  not  necessary  in  his  case/'  I  said,  "for, 
oddly  enough,  he's  the  only  John  there  is.  There 
are  two  Peters,  you  see,  and  two  Mikes,  so  to  keep 
them  distinguished  from  each  other  we  have  to 
tack  on  the  father's  Christian  name." 

"How  lovely!"  said  Molly.  "I  think  I'll  call 
myself  Molly  Floyd  George  while  I'm  here.  George 
is  father's  name,  you  know." 

That  reminded  me  that  I  ought  to  deliver  Peter 
Flanagan's  message  to  Dr.  Floyd. 

"By  the  way,"  I  said,  "where  is  your  father?" 

"Gone  to  look  for  his  crannogs,  I  expect,"  said 
Molly.  "That's  what  he  came  here  for,  you  know." 

"I  wish,"  I  said,  "that  you'd  tell  me  exactly  what 
a  crannog  is." 

"I  thought  you  said  that  you  were  deeply  inter- 
ested in  them." 

"I  did  say  that;  and  I  am,  of  course.  That's 
why  I'm  asking  you  what  they  are.  If  I  wasn't  in- 
terested I  wouldn't  be  looking  for  information." 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Molly,  "that  I  can  tell  you 
exactly  what  they  are;  but  they're  prehistoric. 
That's  the  word,  isn't  it?" 

"It's  certainly  a  word,"  I  said,  "and  I  daresay 
it's  the  right  one  to  use  about  crannogs,  but  I  don't 
know." 

"They're  built  on  piles,"  said  Molly.     "Perhaps 


78     ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

you  understand  what  that  means.     I  don't.     And 
they're  found  in  lakes." 

"Found  where?"  I  asked. 

I  was  disturbed  by  this  last  piece  of  information. 
There  are  no  lakes  on  Inisheeny.  But  the  bog  at 
the  back  of  Peter  Flanagan  Tom's  house  might  once 
have  been  a  small  lake.  I  sincerely  hoped  that  Dr. 
Floyd's  crannog  was  not  there.  It  is  the  one  place 
in  the  island  which  is  forbidden  to  explorers. 

"Lakes,"  said  Molly;  "not  large  lakes,  you  know; 
but,  well,  rather  disused  lakes.  I  suppose  that  the 
people  who  built  them  chose  lakes  which  weren't 
much  good  for  anything  else?  I  say,  do  you  think 
you  could  chase  these  children  away?  They're 
darlings,  but  I've  had  enough  of  them." 

"There's  no  chance  of  their  going,"  I  said,  "as 
long  as  there's  any  of  the  golden  syrup  left." 

Molly  glanced  at  the  tin.  It  was  still  half  full. 
She  handed  it  to  the  small  chubby  boy  whom  she 
had  picked  out  as  the  sweetest  of  the  children. 

"Now,"  she  said,  "be  off  home,  all  of  you." 

The  small  boy  fled  at  once,  and  the  rest  of  the 
children  followed  him.  I  thought  it  likely  that  there 
would  be  a  fight — a  very  sticky  fight — outside  the 
tent.  But  the  chubby  boy  was  fleeter  than  he  looked. 
He  kept  the  short  lead  that  he  had,  and  the  whole 
party  disappeared  into  the  next  field.  What  hap- 
pened there  did  not  matter  to  me. 

Tommy  and  Peter  Flanagan  appeared,  carrying 
large  bundles  of  hay  on  their  shoulders.  I  made 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      79 

up  my  mind  to  go  in  search  of  Dr.  Floyd  at  once. 
After  hearing  what  Molly  told  me  about  crannogs 
I  felt  fairly  certain  that  the  professor  had  gone 
straight  to  the  bog.  I  was  anxious  if  I  could  to 
lure  him  away  before  Peter  Flanagan  found  him 
there.  I  did  not  like  the  task  at  all.  Molly  had 
warned  me  that  her  father  was  likely  to  turn  "ratty" 
if  anyone  came  between  him  and  a  crannog.  But 
I  had  made  a  definite  promise  to  the  Flanagans,  and 
they  are  old  friends  of  mine.  Dr.  Floyd  is  barely 
an  acquaintance.  Besides,  after  all,  the  Flanagans 
have  right  on  their  side.  The  island  is  theirs,  and 
no  one  ought  to  poke  about  part  of  it  which  they 
want  to  keep  to  themselves. 

I  hoped  very  much  that  Floyd  would  take  a  rea- 
sonable and  proper  view  of  the  Flanagans'  rights.. 
But  I  feared  he  might  take  the  line  that  crannogs 
are  a  national  possession  from  which  selfish  pro- 
prietors must  not  be  allowed  to  shut  off  the  scien- 
tific public.  The  Flanagans  would  probably  regard 
such  a  doctrine  as  Socialistic — if  they  knew  the 
word — and  would  certainly  resent  it  whether  they 
called  it  Socialistic  or  not.  As  a  strong  individual- 
ist, convinced  of  the  necessity  of  defending  the  rights 
of  private  property,  my  sympathies  were  all  with 
the  Flanagans,  and  the  more  so  because  I  am  not 
much  interested  in  the  things  that  are  dug  out  of 
crannogs. 


CHAPTER  VII 

LAKES  and  pools  in  the  west  of  Ireland  are 
generally  to  be  found  on  the  tops  of  hills, 
not,  as  elsewhere  in  the  world,  in  valleys 
and  hollows.  There  is  nothing  really  surprising 
about  this  to  anyone  who  knows  Ireland.  It  is  sim- 
ply an  illustration  of  the  truth  that  nothing  in  Ire- 
land obeys  ordinary  laws.  Water  is  supposed  to 
settle  down — does  actually  in  England  and  France 
and  other  countries  settle  down — in  the  lowest  place 
it  can  find.  In  Ireland,  especially  west  of  the  Shan- 
non, which  is  the  most  Irish  part  of  Ireland,  water 
climbs  hills  and  forms  lakes  on  top.  My  way,  when 
I  went  in  search  of  Floyd,  lay  up  hill.  There  is, 
I  know,  a  kind  of  rough  track  which  leads  from 
the  landing  place  to  Peter  Flanagan's  house.  But 
it  winds  round  the  island,  touching  at  all  the  other 
houses  on  its  way.  I  was  in  a  hurry,  for  I  wanted 
to  get  Floyd  away  from  the  bog  before  Peter  Flana- 
gan found  him  there,  and  I  could  not  count  on 
Peter  Flanagan  spending  more  than  a  quarter-of-an- 
hour  arranging  Molly's  bed  of  hay  for  her.  I  felt 
bound  to  take  the  most  direct  route  even  if  it  were 
not  the  easiest.  So  I  struck  across  country.  I  had 
only  about  a  mile  and  a  half  to  go,  and  I  ought  to 
have  done  it  easily  in  half  an  hour,  even  allowing 

80 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      81 

for  the  hill.  It  took  me  very  nearly  an  hour,  and 
I  should  have  saved  time  if  I  had  gone  by  the  track. 

The  island  of  Inisheeny  is  divided  up  into  an 
amazing  number  of  small  fields,  and  they  are  sepa- 
rated from  each  other  by  walls  built  of  loose  stones. 
I  do  not  suppose  that  the  Flanagans  actually  find  it 
convenient  to  work  in  fields  the  size  of  largish 
pocket  handkerchiefs ;  but  they  have  to  get  rid  some- 
how of  the  stones  with  which  their  island  is  strewed. 
It  would  be  a  very  laborious  business  to  carry  all  the 
stones  down  to  the  beach  and  to  throw  them  into 
the  sea.  The  only  other  way  of  treating  them  is  to 
build  them  into  walls,  and  when  there  are  millions 
of  stones  there  must  be  a  great  many  walls  with 
very  small  spaces  between  them.  I  did  not  actually 
count  them,  but  I  guessed  that  I  crossed  at  least 
fifty  loose  stone  walls  on  my  way  from  Molly's 
tent  to  the  bog.  Even  a  young  and  active  man  must 
cross  a  loose  stone  wrall  carefully,  if  he  does  not 
want  to  get  badly  bruised  by  bringing  it  down  on 
his  own  legs  and  feet.  I  am,  alas!  neither  young 
nor  active.  I  climbed  the  walls  very  cautiously.  I 
was  exceedingly  hot  and  slightly  out  of  breath  when 
I  reached  the  cottage. 

Mrs.  Peter  Flanagan,  with  a  baby  in  her  arms, 
was  standing  at  her  door  when  I  reached  her  house. 
I  greeted  her  as  I  passed. 

"Good-day  to  you,  Mrs.  Flanagan/'  I  said. 
"You're  looking  well,  and  the  baby  is  growing  into 


82      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

a  fine  boy.  Did  you  see  a  strange  gentleman  wan- 
dering about  here?" 

"There's  a  strange  gentleman  out  on  the  bog  this 
minute,"  she  said,  "and  I'd  be  as  well  pleased  if 
he'd  go  off  and  play  himself  somewhere  else. 
Peter  will  be  angry,  so  he  will,  if  he  finds  him  on 
the  bog.  There's  nothing  vexes  Peter  like  seeing 
anyone  next  or  nigh  that  bog." 

I  hurried  past  the  house  and  climbed  the  wall  of 
the  Flanagans'  haggard.  I  saw  Floyd.  He  was 
not  merely  at  the  bog.  He  was  very  nearly  in  the 
middle  of  it.  He  had  taken  off  his  shoes  and  socks, 
and  rolled  his  trousers  up  above  his  knees.  He  had 
a  long  stick  in  his  hand  which  he  poked  into  the 
mud  and  water  in  front  of  him  like  a  blind  man 
feeling  his  way  along  a  strange  road.  It  surprised 
me  to  see  that  the  water  came  very  little  above  his 
ankles.  I  have  some  experiences  of  various  sorts 
of  bog,  gained  in  the  days  when  I  used  to  go  snipe- 
shooting.  I  know  that  a  bog  like  Flanagan's  has 
no  firm  bottom  to  it.  A  man  who  is  fool  enough 
to  venture  in  simply  sinks,  unless  he  has  friends  at 
hand  to  pull  him  out.  But  Floyd  was  not  sinking. 

Mrs.  Flanagan  shouted  to  me.  She  had  followed 
me  round  the  house  and  stood  in  the  haggard  look- 
ing over  the  wall. 

"Without  you  get  him  away  out  of  that,"  she 
said,  "there'll  be  murder  done  when  Peter  comes 
home.  It's  what  vexes  Peter  terrible,  when  e'er  a 
one  goes  near  that  bog." 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      83 

I  hoped  it  would  not  come  to  murder ;  but  I  quite 
understood  that  Peter  liked  to  keep  the  bog  to  him- 
self ;  and  I  knew  him  to  be  a  most  determined  man. 
There  would  certainly  be  unpleasantness,  even  if 
Floyd  were  not  actually  killed.  I  hurried  down  to 
the  edge  of  the  bog. 

"Floyd,"  I  shouted.     "Floyd,  come  back  at  once." 

He  looked  round  at  me  with  an  amiable  smile. 

"It's  all  right,"  he  said.  "I'm  going  very  care- 
fully. There's  nothing  to  be  anxious  about." 

He  evidently  thought  that  I  was  afraid  he  would 
drown  himself. 

"Come  back,"  I  shouted  again. 

"I  tell  you  it's  all  right,"  said  Floyd.  "The 
causeway  is  perfect  so  far." 

That  more  or  less  explained  why  Floyd  was  not 
up  to  his  neck  in  mud  and  water.  He  was  feeling 
his  way  along  what  he  called  a  causeway.  It  sur- 
prised me  a  good  deal  to  hear  that  there  was  a  sub- 
merged bridge  across  the  Flanagans'  bog.  But 
there  evidently  was  something  of  the  sort.  And 
Floyd  was  feeling  his  way  along  it.  That  accounted 
for  his  poking  about  with  a  stick  in  front  of  him. 
I  almost  wished  he  would  step  over  the  edge  of  it. 

"It's  a  splendid  causeway,"  said  Floyd  cheerfully. 
"But  don't  venture  out.  It  doesn't  run  straight.  I 
have  come  on  two  sharp  angles  already." 

I  felt  a  touch  on  my  arm  and  looked  round.  Mrs. 
Flanagan,  carrying  her  baby  with  her,  had  climbed 


84     ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

the  wall  of  the  haggard  and  followed  me  to  the 
edge  of  the  bog. 

"There'll  be  murder  done  when  Peter  comes 
home,"  she  said;  "murder  and  maybe  worse,  unless 
you  take  the  strange  gentleman  away  out  of  that." 

It  was  all  very  well  for  Mrs.  Flanagan  to  go  on 
threatening  me  with  murder,  but  I  saw  no  way  of 
getting  Floyd  to  come  back.  I  was  not  going  to 
risk  a  wetting  by  trying  to  cross  the  causeway,  and 
even  if  I  got  to  him  I  could  not  drag  the  man  back 
by  the  collar. 

"Take  him  out  of  it  yourself,"  I  said.  "It's  your 
bog,  not  mine." 

"Sure,  I  would  if  I  could,"  said  Mrs.  Flanagan; 
"but  how  can  I  with  a  baby  in  my  arms?" 

I  should  have  offered  to  hold  the  baby  if  I  had 
thought  that  Mrs.  Flanagan,  with  her  arms  free, 
could  have  done  anything  with  Floyd.  But  I  did 
not  see  that  she  could  do  much  more  than  I  could, 
even  if  she  were  relieved  of  the  baby. 

"Why  did  you  let  him  go  there?"  I  asked. 

"Is  it  me  let  him  go?  I  did  no  such  thing;  but 
I  told  him  he'd  be  drownded  if  he  tried.  What 
more  could  I  tell  him?" 

She  might  have  told  him,  as  she  had  told  me,  that 
if  he  escaped  drowning  he  would  be  murdered.  I 
do  not  suppose  that  Floyd  would  have  believed  her. 
But  it  was  plainly  no  use  wrangling  with  Mrs. 
Flanagan.  My  business  was  to  get  Floyd  out  of 
the  bog  and  I  did  not  see  how  I  was  going  to  do  it. 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      85 

He  was  advancing  slowly  but  steadily  towards 
the  middle  of  the  bog.  His  causeway  seemed  to  be 
leading  to  a  small  clump  of  bushes — a  sort  of  is- 
land I  had  never  looked  with  any  particular  in- 
terest at  Flanagans'  bog,  and  I  do  not  remember 
noticing  the  island  before.  But  it  was  there,  and 
Floyd  was  making  for  it. 

"Floyd,"  I  shouted,  "come  back.  I  want  to  talk 
to  you  about  your  daughter.  I'm  uneasy  about  her," 

I  thought  that  might  bring  him  back.  It  was 
the  only  way  of  alarming  him  that  I  could  think 
of  at  the  moment.  It  did  not  seem  to  disturb  him 
in  the  least. 

^'Molly's  all  right,"  he  said.  "Molly's  always  all 
right.  Molly  can  take  care  of  herself." 

That  was  certainly  quite  true.  But  a  man  ought 
to  take  some  interest  in  his  daughter  even  if  she 
happens  to  be  a  thoroughly  competent  girl  like 
Molly. 

"It's  serious,"  I  said,  despairingly,  "extremely  se- 
rious. I'm  really  anxious  about  her.  You  must 
come  back." 

I  do  not  believe  he  would  have  come  back  just 
then  if  I  had  told  him  that  tribes  of  wild  Flanagans 
were  dragging  Molly  limb  from  limb.  He  reached 
the  island  while  I  spoke.  I  call  it  an  island,  though 
it  was  not  really  an  island  in  any  proper  sense  of  the 
word.  Nothing  that  could  be  called  dry  land  ap- 
peared among  the  bushes  which  seemed  to  be  grow- 
ing in  shallow  water.  But  Floyd  stepped  forward 


86      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

confidently,  pushing  aside  the  branches  in  front  of 
him.  A  moment  later  he  gave  a  loud  cry.  I  fully 
expected  to  see  him  begin  to  sink,  slowly,  as  men 
sink  who  are  sucked  down  in  bogs.  I  could  have 
done  nothing  whatever  to  save  him.  I  do  not  sup- 
pose that  I  could  even  have  recovered  his  body 
afterwards. 

"Glory  be  to  God!"  said  Mrs.  Flanagan.  "He's 
gone." 

She  did  not  seem  particularly  shocked  or  horri- 
fied. I  daresay  she  was  rather  pleased.  From  her 
point  of  view  it  was  better  that  Floyd  should  be 
drowned  than  that  he  should  come  safe  to  land  and 
be  murdered  by  her  husband.  But  Floyd  was  not 
being  drowned.  His  cry  was  a  cry  of  anger,  not 
of  agony.  He  turned  his  back  on  the  island  and 
came  splashing  towards  the  shore.  He  was  not 
nearly  so  careful  this  time  as  he  had  been  going 
out,  and  at  one  time  he  stepped  over  the  edge  of  the 
causeway,  and  I  thought  he  would  be  unable  to  get 
back.  He  actually  sank  up  to  his  waist  before  he 
managed  to  get  on  to  firm  ground  again.  When 
he  reached  the  shore  he  was  very  wet  and  muddy; 
but  he  was  not  in  the  least  cool.  I  do  not  think  I 
ever  saw  an  elderly  man  in  such  a  rage,  and,  what 
struck  me  as  very  odd,  he  was  angry  with  me. 

At  first  he  did  nothing  but  swear  at  me.  I  should 
not  have  supposed  beforehand  that  a  gentle-looking 
old  man  like  Floyd  could  have  known  half  the 
words  he  used,  Mrs.  Flanagan's  baby  began  to 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      87 

cry.  Mrs.  Flanagan  herself  kept  her  head  pretty 
well. 

"There'll  be  murder  done  surely,"  she  said. 

Then  she  turned  and  went  back  to  her  house. 
I  suppose  she  did  not  object  to  murder  when  her 
husband  was  neither  the  murderer  nor  the  victim. 
After  a  few  minutes'  terrific  blasphemy  Floyd  be- 
came more  or  less  articulate. 

"You've  played  me  a  dastardly  trick,"  he  said. 

My  conscience  was  perfectly  clear.  I  had  played 
no  trick  of  any  sort  on  Floyd.  I  patted  him  gently 
on  the  shoulder  with  my  hand,  with  the  idea  of 
soothing  him. 

"Try  and  be  calm,  Floyd,"  I  said.  "I  haven't 
done  anything." 

"It  must  have  been  you,"  he  said.  "Nobody  else 
would  do  it.  Nobody  else  would  know  it  was 
worth  doing.  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  you'd  done 
it?  That  would  have  been  bad  enough;  but  not  so 
bad  as  this." 

"If  you'll  tell  me  what's  been  done,"  I  said,  "I 
might  be  able  to  help  you  to  find  out  who  did  it." 

"The  crannog  has  been  opened,"  said  Floyd. 

Well,  I  had  been  fairly  warned.  Molly  told  me 
that  her  father  was  liable  to  become  "ratty"  when 
anything  went  wrong  with  a  crannog.  Now  I  saw 
that  "ratty"  was  a  very  mild  word  to  use.  "Tigery" 
would  have  described  his  temper  better. 

"I  give  you  my  solemn  word  of  honour,  Floyd," 
I  said,  "I'll  take  an  oath  if  you  like,  that  I  never 


88      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

opened  a  crannog  in  my  life,  and  I  don't  in  the  least 
want  to.  In  fact,  I  don't  really  know  what  a  crannog 
is.  I  daresay  you'll  think  very  little  of  me  when  I 
make  a  confession  like  that ;  but  it's  perfectly  true/' 

Floyd  looked  at  me  steadily  without  speaking,  and 
I  did  my  best  to  meet  his  gaze,  though  that  was  not 
an  easy  thing  to  do,  and  I  did  not  find  that  a  good 
conscience  made  it  any  easier.  Gradually  the  glary 
look  disappeared  from  his  eyes,  and  I  could  see  that 
he  was  beginning  to  believe  me. 

"The  truth  is,  Floyd,"  I  said,  "that  if  you  gave 
me  a  present  of  the  best  crannog  in  Ireland  to- 
morrow, offered  to  set  it  up  complete  in  my  garden, 
I  should  not  know  what  to  do  with  it." 

Floyd's  anger  died  away  rapidly,  and  he  began  to 
give  way  to  extreme  dejection.  He  sat  down  on 
the  ground,  covered  his  face  with  his  hands  and 
refused  to  answer  when  I  spoke  to  him.  I  went 
away  and  fetched  his  shoes  and  socks.  I  was  still 
very  anxious  to  get  him  away  before  Peter  Flanagan 
came  back.  I  spoke  to  him  kindly.  I  tried  firmness. 
I  even  shook  him.  He  remained  silent,  taking  no 
notice  of  me.  Whatever  had  happened  to  the  cran- 
nog was  evidently  very  serious. 

Mrs.  Flanagan,  convinced  that  there  was  no  fur- 
ther risk  of  a  duel  to  the  death  between  me  and 
Floyd,  came  back. 

"It  would  be  well,"  she  said,  "if  you  could  get 
the  strange  gentleman  out  of  this  before  Peter 
comes  back." 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      89 

I  was  rather  tired  of  hearing  Mrs.  Flanagan  say 
that.  She  had  said  it  several  times  before,  and  I 
required  no  convincing. 

"How  can  I?"  I  said.  "He  won't  even  put  on 
his  shoes." 

Mrs.  Flanagan  was  ready  to  deal  with  that  diffi- 
culty, even  if  she  could  do  nothing  else.  She 
handed  the  baby  to  me,  knelt  down  and  put  Floyd's 
socks  and  shoes  on  his  feet.  That  seemed  to  rouse 
him.  Before  she  had  time  to  lace  his  second  shoe 
he  was  on  his  feet  striding  at  a  rapid  rate  along 
the  track  which  led  to  the  landing-place.  I  thrust 
the  baby  into  Mrs.  Flanagan's  arms  and  went  after 
him.  I  felt  easier  in  my  mind  now  that  he  was  safe 
away  from  the  neighbourhood  of  the  bog;  but  I 
did  not  know  what  might  happen  if  he  met  Peter 
Flanagan.  The  crannog  had  evidently  been  opened 
by  someone,  and  I  could  not  help  fearing  that 
Floyd  would  accuse  Peter  Flanagan  of  the  crime 
now  that  I  had  cleared  myself.  I  was  afraid  that 
even  Flanagan's  aristocratic  calm  and  dignity  would 
break  down  under  a  storm  of  bad  language  like  that 
with  which  Floyd  had  assailed  me. 

Fortunately  we  did  not  meet  Flanagan.  He 
must  have  gone  home  by  the  short  way  across  the 
stone  walls.  His  wife  would  tell  him  about  Floyd's 
visit,  of  course,  but  I  hoped  he  would  not  be  seri- 
ously annoyed.  No  real  harm  had  been  done  to  his 
bog.  A  night's  rest  on  the  "Aurora"  would,  no 
doubt,  soothe  Floyd,  and  in  the  morning  he  would 


90      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

be  able  to  regard  his  misfortune,  whatever  it  was, 
more  calmly. 

We  found  Molly  and  Tommy  waiting  for  us  at 
the  landing-place.  They  were  hungry  and  wanted 
their  evening  meal.  Sugary  biscuits  dipped  in 
golden  syrup  are  a  satisfying  food  in  so  far  as  they 
deprive  the  eater  of  further  appetite,  but  something 
more  sustaining  is  required  by  young  people  who 
have  spent  a  long  day  on  and  near  the  sea. 

Poacher  Quin  was  also  at  the  .landing-place, 
seated  by  himself  on  a  rock.  He  had  done  far  bet- 
ter than  I  hoped  in  foraging  for  provisions.  He  had 
a  large  home-made  loaf,  a  jug  of  milk  and  a  dozen 
mackerel.  He  put  us  off  to  the  "Aurora"  in  a 
curragh,  and  I  proposed  that  we  should  have  our 
evening  meal  at  once. 

Floyd  did  not  seem  to  care  whether  he  ever  ate 
anything  again  or  not.  He  went  into  the  cabin  and 
sat  with  his  face  turned  away  like  Ahab,  when  he 
was  disappointed  about  Naboth's  vineyard.  Tommy 
washed  my  few  plates  in  a  bucketful  of  salt  water. 
They  were  as  clean  before  he  began  as  he  was  at 
all  likely  to  make  them.  But  I  did  not  mind  his 
washing  them  as  much  as  he  liked.  They  are 
enamelled  metal  plates,  almost  impossible  for  him 
to  break.  Molly  cut  slices  of  bread  and  spread  but- 
ter on  them.  I  kept  my  eye  on  her  to  see  that  she 
did  not  spread  golden  syrup,  too.  I  fried  the 
mackerel  myself.  It  was  not  by  any  means  the  first 
time  that  I  had  fried  mackerel  over  a  "Primus" 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      91 

stove.  I  was  sure  that  I  could  do  it  well.  I  was 
not  sure  that  either  Molly  or  Tommy  could  do  it 
at  all. 

It  was  a  beautifully  fine  evening,  so  we  had  our 
meal  in  the  open  air  sitting  round  the  cockpit.  It 
was  not  so  difficult  as  I  expected  to  get  Floyd  to 
come  out  and  eat.  The  smell  of  frying  fish  reached 
him  in  the  cabin,  and  he  must  have  been  as  hungry 
as  the  rest  of  us  in  spite  of  the  crannog  disaster. 
I  had  only  three  plates,  but  Tommy  did  not  object 
to  eating  his  mackerel  off  the  frying  pan.  He  and 
Molly  finished  off  the  meal  with  bread  soaked  in 
golden  syrup  eaten  off  teaspoons.  They  said  it  was 
far  better  than  most  of  the  puddings  commonly  met 
with. 

We  drank  three  or  four  cups  of  tea  each,  tea 
strong  enough  to  keep  us  awake  for  hours  after- 
wards. But  we  had  hardly  finished  washing  up 
when  Molly  and  Tommy  began  to  yawn.  It  was 
plain  that  they  would  both  be  much  better  in  bed, 
though  the  beds  that  awaited  them  were  not  luxu- 
rious. I  hailed  Poacher  Quin,  who  was  sitting 
patiently  on  his  rock  at  the  landing-place.  He  came 
off  to  take  Molly  ashore.  She  is  a  remarkably 
plucky  girl.  I  do  not  know  any  other  young  woman 
who  would  care  to  go  off  by  herself  to  sleep  in  a 
tent  on  an  island  inhabited,  so  far  as  she  knew,  by 
savage  people  and  greedy  children.  But  she  bade 
us  good-night  without  a  sign  of  nervousness. 


92      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

Poacher  Quin  said  he  would  do  the  best  he  could 
to  secure  a  peaceful  night  for  her. 

"I've  druv  away  the  two  young  bullocks  that  was 
in  the  field,"  he  said,  "for  fear  they  might  be  upset- 
ting the  tent  in  the  night.  And  I've  built  up  the 
gap  in  the  wall  so  that  they  won't  find  it  easy  to 
get  back  again.  And  I've  told  Delia  Flanagan,  the 
one  that  was  called  John's  Delia  before  she  married 
Antony  Tom,  to  shut  up  her  hens,  so  that  they 
wouldn't  be  sitting  on  the  young  lady's  bed  and  dis- 
turbing her  in  the  morning.  I  don't  know  now  that 
there's  anything  will  go  near  her,  unless  it  might 
be  the  young  black  pig  that  belongs  to  Michael.  He's 
a  terror,  that  pig,  and  no  wall  will  keep  him  away 
from  any  place  he's  a  mind  to  go  to." 

Shakespeare  seemed  to  think  that  a  parson  would 
sleep  more  pleasantly  if  he  dreamed  that  his  nose 
were  being  tickled  by  a  tithe  pig's  tail.  He  had  an 
immense  knowledge  of  human  nature,  but  I  cannot 
help  thinking  he  is  wrong  about  that.  I  should  hate 
to  feel  that  a  pig  of  any  sort  could  get  near  me 
when  I  was  in  bed,  even  in  a  dream.  Molly  seemed 
to  think  that  a  visit  from  Michael  Flanagan's  black 
pig  would  be  rather  amusing.  She  waved  a  cheery 
farewell  to  us  as  she  rowed  ashore. 

Then  I  sent  Tommy  to  his  sail  locker. 

"There  are  three  jibs  and  a  foresail  there,"  I 
said.  "And  I  think  the  remains  of  my  old  trisail 
are  there  still;  so  you  ought  to  be  able  to  make 
yourself  fairly  comfortable.  You  can't  stretch  your 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      93 

legs  straight  out,  but  lots  of  people  sleep  curled  up, 
so  that  won't  do  you  any  harm." 

Tommy  is  a  good  tempered  and  cheerful  boy. 
He  went  and  lay  down  in  the  sail  locker  without  a 
grumble. 

Floyd,  though  still  depressed,  was  not  nearly  so 
melancholy  as  he  was  when  he  first  made  the  awful 
discovery  about  the  crannog.  Fried  mackerel  and 
strong  tea  had  restored  him  to  something  like  his 
normal  temper.  I  gave  him  some  whisky  and  water, 
•a  stirrish  dose,  and  that  improved  him  still  more.  I 
offered  him  tobacco,  but  he  said  he  had  not  smoked 
for*  thirty-five  years,  so  I  did  not  urge  him  to  begin 
again.  The  wind  had  completely  died  away,  and  the 
water  lay  quite  calm  around  us.  It  was  still  warm 
though  it  was  ten  o'clock  by  my  watch.  The  sun, 
ignoring  our  legislation,  does  not  set  in  Inisheeny, 
till  nearly  ten  o'clock  at  the  end  of  July.  The  calm, 
and  the  gentle  swish  of  the  water  against  the  boat's 
side  and  the  glow  of  the  sunset  above  the  island, 
all  helped  to  soothe  Floyd. 

We  sat  in  silence  for  about  twenty  minutes,  and 
then  he  made  me  an  apology  for  his  outbreak  during 
the  afternoon. 

"I  am  sorry,"  he  said,  "that  I  lost  my  temper. 
It  was  childish  of  me,  and  I  ought  not  to  have 
abused  you  the  way  I  did.  But  it  was  a  bitter  dis- 
appointment to  me  to  find  that  the  crannog  had  been 
opened." 

"I'm  sure  it  was,"  I  said.     "But  after  all,  that 


94     ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

can't  be  the  only  crannog  in  Ireland.  There  must 
be  others." 

I  offered  this  consolation  rather  doubtfully.  I 
was  still  very  much  in  the  dark  about  crannogs. 
They  might,  for  all  I  knew,  be  exceedingly  rare 
things.  Floyd  sighed  heavily,  but  he  did  not  con- 
tradict me.  I  went  on. 

"There  are  better  fish  in  the  sea  than  ever  came 
out  of  it,"  I  said.  "We'll  look  out  for  another 
crannog  that  hasn't  been  opened." 

"You  don't  understand,"  said  Floyd. 

I  did  not  understand.  He  was  quite  right  there. 
I  do  not,  even  now,  when  I  have  heard  all  that  Floyd 
had  to  say  for  himself,  understand  why  he  should 
get  into  a  violent  passion  because  someone  else  had 
been  before  him  in  digging  useless  things  out  of  a 
patch  of  mud.  I  did  my  best,  however,  to  look  sym- 
pathetic. I  must  have  succeeded,  for  Floyd  sud- 
denly made  up  his  mind  to  trust  me  with  his  whole 
secret.  Without  saying  another  word,  he  dived  into 
the  cabin  and  dragged  out  his  small  brown  handbag. 
He  opened  it  and  groped  about  among  the  papers  it 
contained.  So  far  as  I  could  see  it  contained  noth- 
ing else  except  papers.  He  came  on  what  he  wanted 
after  a  short  search,  and  handed  me  a  bundle  of 
manuscript.  I  looked  at  it,  turning  over  the  pages 
one  after  another.  They  were  all  closely  written 
over  and  the  handwriting  was  both  small  and 
crabbed. 

"Ami  to  read  it?"  I  asked. 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      95 

"You  needn't  read  it  all,"  said  Floyd,  "though 
it's  very  interesting,  absorbingly  interesting.  You'll 
find  the  most  important  part  on  page  six." 

I  turned  to  page  six,  the  last  page  but  one  of  the 
MS.  with  a  sense  of  relief.  But  I  found  I  could  not 
read  a  word  of  it.  It  was  Latin.  I  once  could  read 
Latin  fairly  fluently.  I  still  can  and  occasionally  do 
read  an  ode  of  Horace.  But  this  was  a  Latin  MS., 
a  very  different  thing  from  a  clearly  printed  book, 
and  it  had  been  written  by  someone  who  availed 
himself  of  every  possible  contraction.  It  seemed 
to  me,  too,  that  the  scribe,  or  copyist,  had  kept  a 
hair  in  his  pen  all  the  time  he  was  at  work. 

"I'm  sorry,"  I  said,  "but  I've  left  my  spectacles 
at  home.  I  can't  manage  without  them." 

Sir  Walter  Scott  mentions — I  think  in  "Ivanhoe" 
— that  priests  in  the  reign  of  Richard  I.  were  often 
a  little  deaf  in  their  Latin  ear.  I  saw  no  reason  to 
be  ashamed  of  being  a  little  blind  in  my  Latin  eye. 
And  it  was  perfectly  true  that  I  had  left  my  spec- 
tacles at  home.  Floyd  accepted  this  excuse  and  took 
back  his  MS. 

"I  made  this  copy  myself,"  he  said,  "from  a  MS. 
belonging  originally  to  one  of  the  Irish  monasteries 
in  Italy.  I  came  across  it  in  a  library  in  Rome." 

"I  suppose,"  I  said,  vaguely,  "that  there  are  thou- 
sands of  MSS.  there,  which  nobody  ever  look  at." 

"This,"  said  Floyd,  "is  part  of  the  diary  of  an 
Irish  monk  called  Salmacius.  I  don't  know  how  it 
got  to  Italy.  Perhaps  Salmacius  fled  there  after 


96      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

the  sack  of  his  monastery,  which  seems  to  have  taken 
place  in  976." 

He  paused  at  this  point  and  referred  to  the  MS., 
turning  over  page  after  page.  He  may  have  been 
gloating  over  poor  Salmacius'  misfortune,  or  he 
may  have  been  refreshing  his  recollection  of  some 
details.  He  paused  so  long  that  I  thought  he  must 
want  me  to  say  something. 

"Ireland  seems  actually  to  have  been  in  a  worse 
state  than  it  is  now,"  I  said,  "though  we're  always 
grumbling.  After  all  it  isn't  nearly  so  bad  to  blow 
up  a  police  barrack  as  to  sack  a  monastery." 

"Salmacius  fled  for  his  life  in  the  middle  of  the 
night,"  said  Floyd. 

"And  he  was  a  monk!  That  proves  what  I  say. 
The  only  people  who  have  to  fly  in  the  middle  of  the 
night  now  are  policemen's  wives." 

Floyd  took  no  notice  of  these  comments  of  mine, 
though  I  think  they  ought  to  have  interested  him. 
What  use  is  history  unless  it  teaches  us  to  take  a 
cheerful  view  of  our  own  time  ? 

"Here,"  said  Floyd,  "is  what  Salmacius  says : 
'Deinde,  clamore  perterritus,  dum  f ratres  concurrunt 
in  ecclesiam '  " 

"I  wish,"  I  said,  "you'd  translate  for  me.  I  told 
you  I'd  left  my  spectacles  at  home." 

"Perhaps  I  ought  to  tell  you  first,"  said  Floyd, 
"that  Salmacius  was  Abbot  of  Kildoyne.  It  took 
me  some  time  to  find  that  out,  for  the  MS.  is  imper- 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      97 

feet,  and  gave  me  no  information  on  the  point. 
Then  I  had  to  inquire  where  Kildoyne  is." 

"I  could  have  told  you  that,"  I  said.  "Kildoyne 
is  a  ruin  a  couple  of  miles  out  of  Carrigahooly.  1 
always  heard  it  was  a  castle,  but  no  doubt  you  are 
right." 

"It  was  a  monastery,"  said  Floyd,  "and  Salmacius 
was  Abbot  of  it,  the  last  abbot." 

He  paused  again,  and  I  ventured  on  a  word  of 
sympathy. 

"The  sack  of  the  monastery  seems  to  have  been 
quite  unexpected,"  Floyd  went  on,  still  referring  to 
the  MS. 

"Does  he  say  who  sacked  it?" 

"No,"  said  Floyd,  "at  least  there's  nothing  about 
that  in  the  surviving  half  of  the  MS." 

"Perhaps  he  didn't  know,"  I  said.  "The  sackers 
probably  wore  masks.  But  I  expect  the  Coroner's 
Jury  said  it  was  the  police  or  the  Lord  Lieutenant. 
It  doesn't  matter  now  any  way." 

"The  only  things  which  the  Abbot  was  able  to 
take  with  him  in  his  flight,"  said  Floyd,  "were  a 
cope,  a  chalice  and  a  sword,  which  he  says  was  kept 
behind  the  high  altar,  a  relic,  I  suppose.  It  was  the 
sword  of  Cormaccius  Scaeva  Rex.  The  use  of  the 
word  Scseva  is  interesting.  He  explains  it  as  "vulgo 
kithogue,"  that  is  to  say " 

"Oh,  I  understand  that  all  right,"  I  said,  "King 
Cormac  the  left-handed." 

"With  these  things  hidden  under  his  cloak,"  said 


98      ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

Floyd,  "he  fled  to  Inisheeny — 'trans  mare  in  scapha' 
— by  which  we  may  understand " 

"A  curragh,"  I  said.  "He  couldn't  have  got 
across  this  particular  bit  of  sea  in  anything  else 
then." 

"He  buried  the  sword  and  the  chalice  in  the  cran- 
nog,"  said  Floyd.  "He  doesn't  say  what  he  did 
with  the  cope." 

"The  islanders  probably  looted  that,"  I  said.  "But 
are  you  sure  about  the  crannog  ?  How  did  he  know 
there  was  one?" 

"He  tells  us  exactly  where  it  was,"  said  Floyd. 
"In  the  middle  of  the  lake,  situated  on  the  highest 
point  of  the  island,  and  he  tells  us  how  he  got  there. 
He  was  guided  across  the  causeway  by  a  man  whom 
he  describes  as  Vir  senex  insulanus.' ' 

"An  old  islander,"  I  said,  "one  of  the  Flanagans 
of  course.  It's  wonderful  how  far  back  these  old 
Irish  families  go." 

"He  buried  the  chalice  and  the  sword,"  said 
Floyd,  "  'prima  luce/  early  in  the  morning.  The 
cope  seems  to  have  disappeared  hopelessly." 

So  apparently  had  the  chalice  and  the  sword  of 
the  left-handed  Cormac.  I  could  quite  understand 
Floyd's  disappointment.  It  is  not  given  to  every 
antiquary  to  light  on  a  MS.  which  tells  exactly 
where  to  find  such  treasures  as  ancient  chalices  and 
swords. 

"I  suppose  you're  quite  sure  they're  gone,"  I  said. 

"Quite,"  said  Floyd.    "The  moment  I  stepped  on 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT      99 

to  the  Island  I  saw  that  the  crannog  had  been  opened. 
The  ground  had  been  dug  into.  There  was  an  open 
hole, -half  filled  with  water  which  had  oozed  in,  and 
two  other  places  where  the  mud  had  been  shovelled 
in  and  the  holes  filled  up  again.  Oh,  it  was  very 
thoroughly  done." 

He  rose  stiffly  from  the  corner  of  the  cockpit  in 
which  he  was  sitting  and  crept  into  the  cabin.  I 
heard  him  a  few  minutes  later  bumping  his  head 
against  the  skylight.  It  is  not  easy  to  get  out  of  a 
shirt  and  into  a  suit  of  pyjamas  in  the  cabin  of  a 
small  yacht.  I  generally  dress  and  undress  in  the 
cockpit,  unless  it  is  raining  hard. 

"Good  night,"  said  Floyd  at  last.  "I'm  going  to 
try  to  sleep." 

"Before  you  drop  off,"  I  said,  "I  wish  you'd  tell 
me  how  the  Abbot  Salmacius  managed  with  the 
name  Inisheeny.  Cormaccius  is  good,  though  fairly 
obvious,  and  scaeva  is  quite  classical  for  kithogue. 
But  how  did  he  Latinize  Inisheeny?" 

"He  didn't,"  said  Floyd.  "He  simply  said  'insula 
parva  occidentalis.'  But  as  soon  as  I  found  out 
where  Kildoyne  was,  I  studied  the  map  and  saw  at 
once  that  his  island  was  Inisheeny.  It  must  have 
been,  for  there's  no  other  island  anywhere  near." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

I  SAT  smoking  pipe  after  pipe  after  Floyd  dis- 
appeared, and  lay,  as  I  hoped,  sound  asleep. 
The  glow  of  the  sunset  faded  slowly  from  the 
sky  above  Inisheeny.  The  island  became  a  grey 
folur  instead  of  a  sharply  cut  black  silhouette.  The 
sea,  which  had  been  a  glowing  purple,  grew  slowly 
black,  and  began  to  move  restlessly  as  the  sea  does 
at  night,  even  at  its  calmest.  The  prophet  Jeremiah 
must  have  been  sitting  on  the  shore  on  a  still  sum- 
mer night  when  he  wrote  that  line  of  his  about 
sorrow  on  the  sea.  Yet  I  am  not  sure  that  he  inter- 
preted this  restlessness  aright.  It  seems  to  me  that 
there  is  something  more  than  sorrow  in  the  vague 
movements  and  sobbings  of  calm  water,  and  the 
strange  sucking  kisses  with  which  it  woos  the  shore. 
I  feel  that  the  whole  sea  is  possessed  by  a  great, 
unsatisfied  desire,  as  if  it  longs  for  what  the  land 
has :  warmth,  and  men's  habitations,  and  the  passing 
of  ploughs  across  its  surface.  Or  else,  as  if  the  sea 
is  like  the  heart  of  man  in  which  God  has  placed 
eternity,  "yet  so  as  he  cannot  find  it  out." 

I  am  a  foolish  old  man  and  lonely.  I  suppose  it 
is  natural  enough  that  I  should  let  my  mind  drift 
about  among  sentimentalities  when  I  sit  by  myself 
at  night  on  the  "Aurora."  But  that  night  I  was 

100 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE 'NIGH •[•:/ 


roused  before  my  dreamings  were  half  finished. 
There  was  a  sound  of  men's  voices  on  shore  and 
the  rattling  of  oars  flung  into  a  boat;  very  plainly 
audible  to  me  on  the  "Aurora."  Five  men  put  off 
in  a  curragh  and  pulled  out  into  the  bay.  I  could 
make  out  who  they  were  when  they  got  near  the 
yacht.  Poacher  Quin  was  one  of  them.  The  other 
four  were  Flanagans,  whom  I  knew  well.  They 
caught  sight  of  me  as  they  passed  and  lay  on  their 
oars. 

"We're  thinking  of  taking  a  scrape  of  the  net  in 
the  South  Bay,"  said  Poacher  Quin.  "Would  your 
Reverence  like  to  come  with  us?" 

A  man  of  sixty,  if  he  is  wise,  goes  to  bed  at 
night  and  sleeps.  I  am  not  wise,  and  I  accepted 
the  Flanagans'  invitation.  It  was  not  by  any  means 
the  first  time  that  I  had  gone  fishing  with  these  men. 
I  think  they  like  to  take  me,  having  a  theory  that 
I  bring  them  luck;  and  fishing  is,  of  all  occupations, 
that  in  which  luck  counts  for  most.  I  like  to  think, 
too,  that  I  am  some  use.  I  can  still  haul  on  a  rope, 
and  when  there  is  much  hauling  to  be  done,  six  men 
are  better  than  five. 

There  is  no  more  primitive  boat  in  the  world  than 
the  curragh  of  the  western  Irish  islanders.  Salma- 
cius'  scapha,  in  which  he  made  his  midnight  voyage 
a  thousand  years  ago,  must  have  been  just  such  a 
boat  as  the  Flanagans  use  now.  Then,  no  doubt, 
she  was  made  of  skins.  Now  she  is  a  frail  structure 
of  laths  and  tarred  canvas.  But  the  form  and  the 


: -       102    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

peculiar  qualities  of  the  boat  have  not  changed  at 
all.  It  was  in  just  such  waterproof  baskets  that  the 
earliest  mariners  of  our  race  first  ventured  out  to 
sea,  centuries  before  history  began.  Now,  in  the 
twentieth  century,  the  curragh  survives,  almost 
unimproved,  and,  a  strange  thing,  unimprovable  for 
certain  kinds  of  work.  It  is  still  the  best  boat  there 
is  in  surf  round  rocks  or  among  the  long  breakers 
on  a  sandy  shore.  There  was  a  time,  many  years 
ago,  when  I  first  went  fishing  from  Inisheeny,  when 
I  used  to  suspect  the  Flanagans  of  taking  risks  in 
the  hope  of  frightening  me.  I  know  now  that  they 
are  only  going  their  ordinary  way  when  they  row 
into  places  where  swift  disaster  would  overwhelm 
any  ordinary  boat. 

Poacher  Quin  and  I  sat  together  in  the  stern.  The 
other  four  men  pulled,  one  of  them  with  two  oars. 
It  seems  strange  that  a  curragh  should  pull  five 
oars,  with  the  odd  one  on  the  windward  side,  but 
these  are  curious  craft.  To  manage  a  curragh  a 
man  must  begin  by  inverting  most  of  the  ordinary 
rules  of  seamanship,  and  make  up  his  mind  to  do 
exactly  what  he  is  not  to  do  in  any  other  boat. 
Perhaps  if  our  statesmen  spent  a  few  weeks  fishing 
in  curraghs  before  trying  to  govern  Ireland  they 
would  get  on  better  than  they  do.  They  would 
learn,  at  all  events,  the  wisdom  of  discarding  all 
the  fruits  of  experience  gathered  in  the  governing 
of  other  lands. 

We  pulled  clear  of  the  east  bay  of  the  island, 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT     103 

and  crept  as  closely  as  possible  round  the  shore, 
passing  so  near  to  the  jagged  rocks  that  we  were 
sometimes  floating  in  the  foamy  backwash  of  the 
breaking  waves.  Once  we  passed  through  a  passage 
between  two  masses  of  rock.  It  was  so  narrow  that 
an  active  man  might  have  leaped  across  it.  The 
waves  surged  into  one  end  of  it,  climbed  the  rocks, 
dre"w  back  to  meet  the  surge  advancing  from  the 
other  end,  and  were  buffeted  into  steep  crests.  The 
whole  surface  of  the  water  in  the  passage  was  a 
mass  of  swirling,  seething  foam.  Once,  by  stretch- 
ing out  my  hand,  I  could  have  touched  a  flat,  limpet- 
covered  shelf  of  rock,  flecked  with  the  spume  of 
rushing  water.  Our  four  rowers  steadied  the  cur- 
ragh  and  then  swept  her  forward.  No  words  passed 
between  them.  Each  man  acted  for  himself,  but  all 
seemed  moved  by  a  common  purpose.  They  pos- 
sessed an  incredible  kind  of  instinctive  skill. 

We  came  at  length  to  our  bay,  a  narrow  deep 
inlet  with ,  rocky  sides,  and  a  shore  of  hard  sand 
at  the  end  of  it.  Outside  the  sea  was  calm,  almost 
as  calm  as  in  the  sheltered  east  bay  where  the 
"Aurora"  lay.  But  all  along  the  coast  we  had 
passed,  and  in  this  bay,  with  its  entrance  facing  the 
Atlantic,  the  ocean  surges  rose  mysteriously  near  the 
land.  Great  round-topped,  black  billows  appeared 
suddenly,  curled  over  and  broke,  foaming  among 
the  rocks,  crashing  on  the  sand.  We  landed  on  the 
rocks  on  the  west  side  of  the  bay  and  the  work  of 
the  -night  began.  The  net  lay  stored  in  a  forlorn 


104    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

ruin  of  a  hut  built  on  a  grassy  bank  above  high-tide 
mark.  We  hauled  it  out,  dragged  it  down  to  the 
rocks  and  piled  it  in  the  stern  of  the  curragh.  Two 
men  went  aboard  of  her,  and  one  of  them,  working 
with  two  oars,  backed  her  slowly  towards  the  sandy 
beach.  He  held  her  a  few  feet  from  the  shore 
among  the  curling  wave  crests  and  long  reaching 
rivers  of  foam.  Sometimes  she  reared  like  a  fright- 
ened horse,  and  stood  for  an  instant  on  her  curved 
stern  with  her  bow  pointing  to  the  sky.  The  rower, 
his  oars  outstretched  in  the  air,  balanced  without 
effort  on  his  seat,  waited  till  she  fell  forward  and  he 
could  grip  the  water  again.  The  other  man,  stand- 
ing in  the  stern  beside  the  piled  net,  flung  a  rope 
to  us  on  the  shore.  Then  the  curragh  moved  away 
from  us,  rearing  among  the  breakers,  shooting  for- 
ward over  the  smooth  spaces  between.  And  all  the 
while  the  man  in  the  stern  paid  out  the  rope  to  us 
until  he  came  to  the  end  of  it,  where  it  is  made  fast 
to  the  net.  After  that,  hand-over-hand,  he  flung  the 
net  into  the  sea,  and  we  dimly  discerned  the  curved 
line  of  its  floating  corks.  The  curragh  made  a  wide 
circle  and  dropped  two  hundred  yards  of  net, 
weighted  and  floated,  as  she  went.  She  returned  to 
the  shore  about  fifty  yards  from  where  we  stood. 

Then  came  the  slow  work  of  hauling.  Poacher 
Quin  and  Peter  Flanagan  and  I  were  together  on 
one  rope.  We  dragged  it  shoreward,  foot  by  foot, 
with  heavy  toil.  We  gripped  the  rope,  passed  it 
behind  our  backs,  and,  with  perceptible  pauses  be- 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT,    105 

tween  our  steps,  plodded  up  the  sand.  We  were  six 
or  eight  yards  apart,  and  as  each  man  reached  the 
line  of  stones  which  fringed  the  beach  he  dropped 
the  rope  and  walked  down  again  to  the  water's  edge, 
went  ankle  deep  into  the  water,  gripped  the  rope 
again  and  again  began  the  slow  ascent.  As  the  net 
came  home  we  edged  over  towards  our  fellow- 
labourers  who  hauled  the  rope  at  the  other  end. 
At  first  we  could  only  see  them  dimly,  black  figures 
against  a  grey  background,  so  sloped  in  their  pulling 
that  it  seemed  as  if  they  must  fall.  The  rope  on 
which  they  leaned  was  not  visible,  and  their  slow 
crawling  up  the  sand  looked  grotesque.  At  last  we 
came  together,  and  the  net  itself  was  in  our  hands. 
Standing  in  shallow  water  we  pulled  it  in,  we  saw 
the  splashing  fish  in  the  bag  of  it.  We  gathered  it 
all  in  at  last,  and  stood  with  our  booty  flapping 
against  our  legs  and  feet — white  trout,  sole,  plaice, 
turbot,  codling,  broad-headed  spiky  gurnet,  and 
scores  of  coal  fish.  Also,  because  the  weighted  bot- 
tom of  the  net  had  scraped  along  the  sand,  there 
were  many  crabs  and  jagged  star-fish,  and  round  sea 
urchins. 

"Didn't  I  say  all  along,"  said  Poacher  Quin,  "that 
his  Reverence  would  bring  us  luck?" 

Peter  Flanagan  was  of  the  same  opinion  about  the 
value  of  my  presence.  He  came  over  to  me  and 
held  out  his  hand,  a  hand  slimy  with  fish  scales,  damp 
and  cold.  I  placed  mine  in  it  and  felt  the  firm  grasp 


106    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

of  friendship.  But  Peter  was  less  voluble  than 
Poacher  Quin.  He  did  not  speak  a  word. 

Then  came  the  long  and  tiresome  business  of  get- 
ting the  net  ready  for  a  fresh  cast.  The  fish  were 
gathered  into  heaps  and  packed  into  two  sacks, 
fetched  from  the  hut  where  the  net  was  stored.  A 
few  dog-fish  were  flung  far  up  the  beach  and  left 
to  die.  Star-fish,  sea  urchins,  and  tangles  of  torn 
weed  were  dragged  out  of  the  net  and  thrown  aside. 
It  was  impossible  to  disentangle  the  crabs  from  the 
meshes.  They  were  trodden  to  pulp  by  the  men's 
boots.  Then  the  net  and  all  its  gear,  heavy  with 
sea-water,  was  gathered  into  piles  or  coiled.  This 
was  hard  work,  as  hard  as  the  hauling,  and  much 
more  wetting.  I  had  no  great  skill  at  it,  and  the 
ordering  of  the  ropes  and  floats  and  weights  of  a 
tangled  net  is  confusing  work  in  the  dark.  Besides, 
I  was  tired.  I  moved  up  the  beach  and  sat  on  a 
stone  by  myself. 

Below  me,  moving  silently  in  the  dim  darkness  of 
the  summer  night,  were  the  toiling  men.  Below 
them  the  waves  broke,  slowly,  heavily,  on  the  sand, 
making  a  broadening  and  narrowing  belt  of  grey- 
white  foam.  Beyond  lay  the  calm,  black  sea. 

I  fell  to  wondering  how  the  economic  doctrines 
of  our  new  Labour  Party  would  work  out  when 
men  like  the  Inisheeny  islanders  come  to  apply  them 
to  the  conditions  of  their  lives.  Knowledge  and 
ideas  spread  slowly,  but  sooner  or  later  my  friends 
the  Flanagans  will  learn  the  truths  which  their  toil- 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT     107 

ing  brethren  in  the  great  English  industrial  districts 
have  discovered,  on  which  our  brave  new  world  is 
to  be  built  up.  Already  it  is  beginning  to  be  under- 
stood, even  on  Inisheeny,  that  work  is  an  evil  thing. 
No  man,  however  ignorant,  can  regard  hauling  the 
wet  ropes  of  a  heavy  net  as  good  or  pleasant,  espe- 
cially if  the  hauling  is  done  at  night.  Some  day 
the  Flanagans  will  learn  that  work  is  not  only  an 
evil,  but  a  wholly  unnecessary  evil,  imposed  on  poor 
man  by  capitalism  and  other  tyrannous  powers. 
They  will  find  out,  as  the  labouring  masses  have 
found  out  everywhere  else,  that  work  can  be  dimin- 
ished, and  in  the  end  totally  abolished  by  a  wise 
system  of  doing  as  little  as  possible,  and  by  breaking 
out  once  a  month  or  so  into  the  total  idleness  of 
strikes.  Reactionary  economists,  seated  comfort- 
ably in  their  well-warmed  rooms,  will  say  that  the 
people  of  Inisheeny  are  too  close  to  nature  to  prac- 
tise the  "ca'  canny"  system  of  work,  or  to  strike 
with  any  hope  of  success.  How,  these  wise  fools 
will  ask,  can  men  fight  natural  laws?  Will  the  soil 
and  the  sea  be  intimidated  by  the  threat  of  a  general 
strike?  Such  arguments  sound  plausible,  but  are 
fundamentally  unsound.  The  history  of  man's  life 
on  this  planet  is  the  history  of  his  gradual  triumph 
over  these  same  powerful,  seemingly  immutable  laws 
of  nature.  Will  Labour,  catching  the  torch  from 
the  failing  hands  of  capitalists,  fail  to  run  the  race 
to  its  triumphant  end?  Doubtless,  the  Flanagans 
will  suffer,  as  all  pioneers  must  suffer,  martyrs  to 


io8    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

the  new  faith.  But  they  will  win  through.  They, 
or  their  children  after  them,  will  make  it  plain  to 
the  sea  that  they  are  not  content  to  be  toiling  slaves, 
and  to  the  tyrannous  earth  that  it  cannot  for  ever 
be  watered  by  their  sweat.  Then  the  fish  will  of 
their  own  accord  come  swimming  to  the  land,  and 
there  will  be  no  more  tugging  at  wet  ropes.  Then 
potatoes  will  grow  spontaneously,  in  untilled  ground, 
without  being  sowed. 

So,  more  foolish  than  when  I  sentimentalised  on 
the  deck  of  the  "Aurora,"  I  sat  on  my  stone,  an 
uninspired  and  soulless  sceptic,  and  questioned  the 
glowing  spirit  of  my  time.  I  must  have  dropped 
into  a  half -dose,  for  I  did  not  notice  that  the  net 
was  cleared,  piled  into  the  stern  of  the  curragh,  and 
that  the  work  of  casting  was  begun  again.  I  awoke 
to  find  that  I  was  not  the  only  one  of  the  party  who 
was  shirking  his  fair  share  of  the  work.  Poacher 
Quin  had  left  the  fishing  and  was  working  a  little 
further  up  the  beach  at  the  easy  task  of  making  a 
fire. 

Poacher  Quin  can  work  when  he  chooses,  but 
long  continued  effort  is  not  a  thing  he  likes,  and  he 
manages  to  live  without  it,  as  he  manages,  somehow, 
to  live  without  paying  much  attention  to  the  laws 
and  rules  which  society  makes  for  its  own  security 
and  comfort.  In  the  old  days  we  used  to  put  the 
Quins  into  prison  occasionally.  But  we  had  a 
kindly  tolerance  for  them,  so  long  as  they  did  not 
make  too  many  converts  to  their  creed.  I  wonder 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT     109 

what  the  new  world  of  organised,  rule-fettered 
unions  will  do  with  Poacher  Quin  and  his  like.  I 
rose  and  went  to  where  he  knelt,  kindling  his  chipped 
driftwood  to  a  blaze.  It  will,  at  all  events,  be  a 
long  time  before  the  new  civilisation  reaches 
Inisheeny.  Perhaps  Poacher  Quin  will  be  dead 
before  it  comes.  The  old  civilisation  never  got 
there  at  all. 

The  fire  burned  up  suddenly.  Quin  set  two  cans 
on  it,  balancing  them  carefully  on  stones  arranged 
among  the  burning  sticks. 

""The  boys/'  he  .said,  "will  be  glad  of  a  drop  of 
tea  when  they've  made  another  scrape  with  the 
net." 

That  was  his  excuse  for  himself;  but  it  was  no 
excuse  for  me.  The  men  below  us  were  hauling  on 
their  ropes  again,  walking,  as  we  had  walked,  slowly 
up  the  beach.  But  there  were  only  two  men  now  on 
each  rope.  I  felt  that  I  ought  to  go  down  to  them 
and  take  my  part.  Quin  read  my  thoughts.  He 
looked  up  and  the  fire-light  played  on  a  smile  on 
his  mouth. 

"Isn't  it  enough  for  your  Reverence  to  be  bring- 
ing us  luck?"  he  said.  "Why  would  you  be  break- 
ing your  back  when  there's  plenty  without  you?" 

A  mascot,  after  all,  plays  a  useful  part  in  the 
affairs  of  men,  especially  of  fishermen.  Besides  I 
was  glad  of  the  chance  of  a  quiet  talk  with  Poacher 
Quin.  I  understood  quite  well  now  why  the  Floyds 
had  come  to  Carrigahooly  and  why  they  insisted 


no    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

on  being  taken  out  to  Inisheeny.  To  an  enthusiastic 
antiquary  the  sword  of  left-handed  King  Cormac 
was  a  prize  worth  going  far  to  win.  And  the  chalice 
of  Salmacius — silver  work  of  the  loth  century  or 
earlier — was  a  treasure  which  would  make  the  finder 
famous  in  every  museum  in  Ireland.  The  Ardagh 
chalice  is  a  vessel  of  which  even  the  unlearned  have 
heard.  What  honour  might  await  the  man  who 
dug  up  Salmacius'  chalice  and  wrote  a  paper  about 
it,  such  a  paper  as  Dr.  Floyd  would  write?  That 
was  all  plain  to  me. 

Equally  plain  was  the  absurdity  'of  Patterson's 
theory.  I  knew  and  felt  that  I  could  convince  even 
Sergeant  Morris  that  the  Floyds  were  not  emissaries 
of  a  secret  society.  What  still  puzzled  me  was  the 
attitude  of  the  people  of  Carrigahooly,  and  especially 
of  Mrs.  Maher.  Why  did  they  object  to  a  harmless 
antiquary  visiting  Inisheeny?  And  why  did  Peter 
Flanagan  threaten  to  murder  anyone  who  went  near 
the  bog  behind  his  house  ? 

I  was  puzzled ;  but  not  so  puzzled  as  to  be  unable 
to  make  a  guess,  and  I  wanted  to  have  my  guess 
established  by  information  from  Poacher  Quin. 

Patterson  was  convinced  that  something  was 
going  on  in  the  island,  something  hidden  and  law- 
less. So  far,  as  I  began  to  think,  he  was  right.  But 
he  was  wrong,  hopelessly  wrong,  in  thinking  that 
the  Flanagans  were  engaged  in  any  plot  to  smuggle 
arms  into  the  country.  I  thought  I  knew.  Poacher 
Quin  is  one  of  the  few  ffien  in  Ireland  who  still 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT     in 

manages  to  get  drunk  occasionally.  The  people  of 
Carrigahooly  do  not  grumble  about  the  difficulty  of 
obtaining  whisky,  though  whisky  has  risen  in  price 
to  monstrous  heights. 

I  stood  over  Quin  as  he  knelt  beside  his  fire. 

"Why,"  I  asked,  "are  you  so  anxious  to  keep 
Dr.  Floyd  off  the  bog  at  the  back  of  Peter's  house?" 

Quin  looked  up  at  me.  A  flame  shot  up  in  the 
fire,  and  I  could  see  his  face  plainly,  There  was 
on  it  a  look  of  confidential  cunning.  He  was  trust- 
ing me  with  a  secret,  a  secret  which,  if  not  dishonour- 
able, was  certainly  dangerous. 

"If  you  don't  know  that,  your  Reverence,"  he 
said,  "you  must  be  the  only  man  in  Carrigahooly 
that  doesn't,  barring  the  police,  of  course.  But  sure 
you  do,  well  enough." 

I  did  know ;  but  I  was  not  very  comfortable  with 
my  knowledge.  The  distilling  of  whisky  without 
legal  authority,  and  the  sale  of  it  without  paying 
duty,  are  serious  things,  even  in  Ireland.  The 
Government  cannot  be  expected  to  stand  them, 
Shooting  policemen,  landing  arms,  burning  houses, 
and  driving  cattle  are  crimes  of  course.  But  the 
police  who  are  shot,  the  houses  which  are  burned, 
and  the  harried  cows  are  all  Irish.  Statesmen  at 
Westminster,  and  their  masters,  the  great  English 
democracy,  are  not  much  affected  by  the  things  we 
do  to  each  other  here.  But  the  defrauding  of  the 
revenue  is  a  different  matter.  That  reacts  directly 
on  the  English  taxpayer,  and  he  will  not  put  up 


H2    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

with  it.  I  do  not  wonder  that  Mrs.  Maher  and  the 
Carrigahooly  fishermen  and  Poacher  Quin  and  all 
the  Flanagans  are  determined  to  keep  strangers  far 
from  Inisheeny.  Now  that  I  knew  the  secret  I 
began  to  feel  nervous  myself. 

Poacher  Quin  had  answered  my  question  suffi- 
ciently, though  he  had  not  put  his  answer  into  words.. 
He  felt  entitled  to  ask  me  a  question  in  return. 

"What  do  them  ones  want  out  here  at  all?"  he 
said.  "And  why  was  the  old  gentleman  off  hot 
foot  to  the  bog  the  minute  I  put  him  ashore  on  the 
island?" 

I  had  not  the  slightest  objection  to  giving  a  frank 
and  full  answer. 

"Dr.  Floyd  thinks  that  the  sword  of  King  Cormac 
the  Left-handed  was  buried  in  that  bog  about  a 
thousand  years  ago,  and  he  wants  to  dig  it  up." 

I  did  not  in  the  least  expect  that  Poacher  Quin 
would  believe  what  I  said.  To  my  amazement  he 
did  not  seem  entirely  incredulous.  Indeed  he 
scarcely  seemed  surprised. 

"A  sword,  is  it?"  he  said.  "Well,  now  it  could 
be  that  a  sword  might  be  in  the  bog.  But  tell  me 
this,  your  Reverence,  was  there  anything  else  in  it 
along  with  the  sword?" 

I  had  not  meant  to  say  anything  about  the  chalice 
of  the  Abbot  Salmacius.  Chalices  are  made  of 
precious  metals  and  are  often  adorned  with  jewels. 
It  seemed  to  me  unwise  to  excite  the  cupidity  of  the 
Flanagans  by  suggesting  that  there  might  be  any- 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT     113 

thing  of  intrinsic  value  in  the  crannog.  But,  having 
started  by  being  frank,  I  thought  I  might  as  well  go 
on.  Besides,  I  was  beginning  to  think  that  Poacher 
Quin  knew  about  the  existence  of  the  chalice. 

"There's  supposed  to  be  an  old  chalice  there, 
too,"  I  said,  "and  there  may  be  other  things." 

"And  is  it  them  he's  after?" 

"Just  those  two  things,"  I  said.  "Nothing  else. 
I'll  give  you  my  word  for  that." 

"I  thought  it  might  be  no  more  than  something 
of  the  sort,"  said  Quin,  "when  I  heard  that  the 
police  was  after  him.  I  knew  well  he  couldn't  be 
what  my  cousin  Peter  was  afraid  of.  Would  the 
police  be  interfering  with  a  gentleman  down  from 
Dublin  Castle  to  look  after  what  whisky  might  be 
in  the  place?" 

So  that  was  why  the  Flanagans  and  the  people 
of  Carrigahooly  were  so  distrustful  of  Dr.  Floyd.' 
They  took  him  for  a  revenue  officer,  and  thought 
that  he  was  bent  on  going  out  to  Inisheeny  in  order  to 
spy  into  the  local  industry,  perhaps  break  open  the 
unbonded  stores  of  the  islanders.  Poacher  Quin, 
his  wits  sharpened  by  his  life-long  contest  with  the 
law,  knew  better.  He  realised  that  Patterson  would 
be  the  ally  of  a  revenue  officer,  whereas  he  was 
harassing  the  Floyds.  I  wondered  how  Quin  came 
to  know  what  Patterson's  suspicions  were.  I  do 
not  suppose  that  he  spoke  of  them  to  anyone,  except 
me. 


114    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

"What  makes  you  think,"  I  asked,  "that  the 
police  are  after  Dr.  Floyd?" 

"Didn't  I  see  Mr.  Patterson  getting  into  the  train 
along  with  him  at  Dunally?"  said  Quin.  "Would 
he  do  that  if  he  didn't  want  to  keep  an  eye  on 
him?  And  Sergeant  Morris  was  down  asking 
questions  of  Mrs.  Maher  before  the  gentleman  was 
half  an  hour  in  the  place.  And  there  was  a  con- 
stable outside  the  hotel  the  whole  night  trying  to  see 
could  he  find  out  where  the  young  lady  went  if  she 
left  the  house.  Isn't  that  enough  to  show  anyone 
that  the  police  are  after  them?" 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,"  I  said,  "Mr.  Patterson 
is  entirely  mistaken.  He  thinks  Dr.  Floyd  is  a 
Sinn  Feiner  down  here  trying  to  persuade  you  to 
murder  the  police." 

"Glory  be  to  God!"  said  Poacher  Quin.  "But 
sure  it's  what  I'm  always  saying.  There's  mighty 
few  people  in  the  world  has  any  sense  at  all,  and 
the  Government  has  less  than  most." 

I  am  inclined  to  agree  with  Quin  about  the  first 
part  of  his  statement.  The  number  o'f  people  with 
what  he  calls  sense  is  surprisingly  small.  I  am  not 
sure  that  I  want  to  dispute  his  estimate  of  the  intelli- 
gence of  the  Government,  though  he  does  put  it  at 
less  than  nothing. 

"I  hope  now,"  he  went  on,  "that  Mr.  Patterson 
won't  be  wanting  to  come  chasing  out  here  after  the 
old  gentleman  to  Inisheeny." 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT     115 

"I  hope  not,"  I  said,  "but  I  am  not  at  all  sure 
that  he  won't." 

I  felt,  indeed,  fairly  sure  that  Patterson  would 
come  out  to  Inisheeny  if  he  could  get  a  boat  to 
bring  him. 

"It  wouldn't  suit  my  Cousin  Peter  Tom  at  all," 
said  Quin,  "to  have  the  police  out  on  Inisheeny.  Do 
you  think  now,  your  Reverence,  that  the  old  gentle- 
man would  go  away  before  the  police  came  for  him, 
supposing  he  got  what  he's  after?" 

"Do  you  mean  King  Carmac's  sword  and  the 
chalice  ?  I  expect  he'd  make  no  difficulty  at  all  about 
clearing  out  if  he  got  them." 

"I'm  not  saying  for  certain  that  it  is  King  Car- 
mac's  sword,"  said  Quin,  "and  I'm  not  saying  it's  a 
chalice.  But  my  Cousin  Peter  was  telling  me  one 
time — the  way  of  it  was  this,  your  Reverence. 
Peter  happened  to  be  doing  a  bit  of  digging  one  day 
in  the  bog " 

"Getting  the  ground  ready  for  potatoes,  I  sup- 
pose?" 

It  was  perfectly  plain  that  no  men  could  possibly 
plant  potatoes  in  the  middle  of  a  muddy  lake,  but 
Quin  received  my  sneer  without  a  sign  of  resent- 
ment. 

"It  might  have  been  potatoes,"  he  said,  "or  it 
might  have  been  a  lock  of  oats,  or  it  might  have 
been  something  else  he  was  wanting  to  sow  there. 
Anyway  he  was  digging,  and  he  came  on  a  kind  of 
long  handled  knife — that's  what  he  told  me — and  a 


n6    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

little  later  he  came  on  an  old  cup,  stained  black  it 
was  with  the  bog  water,  and  a  hole  in  the  bottom 
of  it,  as  if  the  spade  might  have  struck  it." 

"Very  likely  the  spade  did,"  I  said. 

"And  if  them's  the  articles  the  gentleman's  look- 
ing for,"  said  Quin,  "he  can  have  them,  for  they're 
no  kind  of  use  to  my  Cousin  Peter.  He  can  have 
them,  and  he  won't  be  asked  to  pay  a  penny  for 
them;  only  just  to  get  out  of  Inisheeny  before  the 
police  comes." 

"You  get  those  things  for  him,"  I  said,  "and  I'll 
promise  to  have  him  clear  of  the  island  half  an 
hour  later.  He  won't  want  to  stay  a  minute  longer 
than  he  need." 

"Your  Reverence  was  always  a  good  friend  to 
the  people  of  this  island,"  said  Quin,  gratefully, 
"and  to  many  another  decent  poor  man.  If  there 
was  many  more  like  you  Ireland  would  be  a  different 
country  than  what  it  is." 

I  really  think  Poacher  Quin  was  right  there; 
though  I  did  not  deserve  the  praise  I  got  for  being 
a  good  friend  to  the  Flanagans.  I  am  a  peaceful, 
quiet  man,  constitutionally  averse  to  the  violent 
exertion  required  of  reformers  and  patriots.  If 
most  of  the  people  of  Ireland  were  like  me  the 
country  would  be  very  much  more  placid  than  it  is. 
Whether  it  would  be  better — as  Quin  seemed  to 
think — is  another  question. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  Flanagans  finished  their  hauling  of  the 
net  and  came  up  the  beach  one  by  one  to 
Quin's  fire.      The  second  cast  had  been 
quite  as  successful  as  the  first.    They  had  four  sacks 
full  of  fish;  fish  that  would  have  fetched  a  large 
sum  if  it  could  have  been  taken  to  the  Dublin  mar- 
ket.    On  Inisheeny,   I   suppose,  it  had  no  value, 
except  its  simple  value  as  food. 

The  men  gathered  round  the  fire  and  drank  the 
tea  Quin  had  prepared  for  them;  strong,  black, 
milkless  tea,  heavily  sweetened  with  large  quanti- 
ties of  sugar.  Neither  the  Inisheeny  islanders  nor 
the  people  of  Carrigahooly  have  felt  the  sugar  short- 
age. It  is  an  odd  thing  but  it  is  a  fact  that  the  fur- 
ther people  live  from  the  Sugar  Controller  the  easier 
they  find  it  to  get  sugar.  In  London,  so  I  am  told, 
it  is  impossible ;  in  Dublin  very  difficult  to  get  more 
than  the  apportioned  ration.  In  the  Irish  midlands 
it  is  not  very  hard  to  buy  an  extra  pound  or  two. 
In  far  western  towns  like  Carrigahooly  sugar  can 
be  bought  freely  by  the  stone.  On  Inisheeny  no  one 
knows  that  there  is  a  shortage. 

Thus  life  is  full  of  compensations.  The  Flana- 
gans cannot  sell  the  fish  they  catch.  They  can 
sweeten  their  tea. 

117 


n8    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

Poacher  Quin  took  his  Cousin  Peter  by  the  arm 
and  led  him  aside.  I  felt  sure  that  he  was  explain- 
ing to  him  that  Dr.  Floyd  was  an  innocent  if  foolish 
man.  I  was  not  surprised  when  I  heard  Quin 
calling  me  a  few  minutes  later. 

"Your  Reverence,"  he  said,  "if  it's  not  troubling 
you  too  much,  I'd  be  glad  if  you'd  come  here  for 
a  minute  the  way  my  Cousin  Peter  could  say  a 
word  to  you." 

The  remaining  three  Flanagans  were  far  too 
courteous  to  display  the  least  curiosity.  They  took 
no  notice  of  Quin's  call  to  me.  They  did  not  even 
look  after  me  when  I  left  them.  They  stood  silent 
with  their  tin  mugs  in  their  hands,  staring  into  the 
fire. 

"My  Cousin  Peter,"  said  Quin,  "is  willing  to  give 
the  sword — if  so  be  it  is  a  sword — and  the  old  cup 
to  your  Reverence." 

"Not  to  me,"  I  said,  "I  really  don't  want  them. 
To  Dr.  Floyd." 

"To  your  Reverence,"  said  v  Peter  Flanagan, 
gravely,  "or  to  any  friend  of  your  Reverence;  and 
it's  only  sorry  I  am  that  I  haven't  something  better 
to  be  giving." 

I  hoped  that  Peter  understood  what  he  was  giving. 
I  have  never  been  able  to  reconcile  my  conscience 
to  the  hard  bargains  driven  by  experts  when  dealing 
with  ignorant  people.  I  felt  that  I  should  be  more 
comfortable  if  I  explained  to  Peter  what  the  things 
were. 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT     119 

"Are  you  sure,"  I  said,  "that  you  know  what 
you're  parting  with?  The  sword  belonged  to  King 
Cormac  the  Left-handed.  It  is  a  weapon  of  immense 
antiquity,  and  the  cup " 

Peter  waved  my  explanation  aside. 

"If  it  was  the  gold  crown  off  the  king's  head," 
he  said,  "and  the  china  cup  that  the  queen  does  be 
drinking  out  of,  I  wouldn't  begrudge  them  to  your 
Reverence  or  to  any  friend  of  yours." 

He  made  no  bargain  of  any  sort,  did  not  so  much 
as  hint  that  Floyd  should  leave  the  island  as  soon 
as  possible.  This  is  the  way  in  which  great  gentle- 
men do  business.  They  give,  and  there  is  no  word 
about  a  price  to  be  paid,  for  the  chaffering  of  the 
market-place  is  not  consonant  with  their  dignity. 
But  in  the  background  there  is  generally  a  lesser 
man,  an  agent,  who  settles  to  the  last  penny  what 
the  price  is.  In  this  case  Poacher  Quin  made  it 
quite  clear  to  me  that  the  Floyds  must  go.  I  was 
left  in  no  doubt  about  that  point,  though  Peter  did 
not  mention  it. 

I  know  these  seas  well,  at  least,  in  their  summer 
moods,  but  our  row  home  that  night  was  a  strange 
experience  to  me.  It  was  as  dark  as  it  ever  is  in 
the  month  of  July.  The  water  was  phosphorescent 
wherever  the  oars  struck  it.  The  bases  of  the 
rocks  where  the  waves  broke,  shone  with  tiny 
sparks,  lit  and  quenched  in  millions  every  second. 
At  some  moments  the  broken  water  looked  like  a 
sheet  of  white  fire.  We  shot  through  the  narrow 


120    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

passage  between  the  rocks  again  and  it  was  shining 
water  which  surged  and  foamed  round  us. 

It  was  about  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  when 
we  reached  the  "Aurora."  The  Flanagans  wanted 
to  present  me  with  a  whole  sackful  of  fish,  a  small 
reward,  so  they  seemed  to  think,  for  the  good  luck 
I  had  brought  them.  I  accepted  six  soles  and  laid 
them  in  a  bucket  beside  the  mast. 

I  peeped  into  the  cabin.  Dr.  Floyd  was  sleeping 
soundly.  He  was  indeed  snoring,  and  the  air  of 
the  cabin  was  extremely  stuffy.  I  felt  that  I  should 
not  be  likely  to  sleep  much  on  the  bed  which  waited 
for  me.  I  pulled  my  blanket  out,  for  the  night  was 
cool,  lit  my  pipe  and  settled  myself  in  the  cockpit. 

I  fell  to  wondering  how  the  Flanagans  distilled 
whisky  on  the  island,  what  apparatus  had  they,  what 
materials  did  they  use?  I  wondered  how  long  they 
had  been  engaged  in  the  business,  at  what  point  in 
the  upward  progress  of  taxation  did  it  become  worth 
while  to  take  the  risk  of  distilling ;  had  they  been  at 
it  long  enough  to  have  a  store  of  properly  matured 
spirit.  They  had  a  store  I  knew,  buried  in  the 
crannog,  in  the  middle  of  the  bog  behind  Peter 
Flanagan's  house.  How  long  was  the  whisky 
allowed  to  lie  there  before  it  was  ferried  to  the 
mainland,  and  sold  to  Mrs.  Maher?  I  was  inter- 
ested in  the  thought  that  my  "Aurora"  must  have 
carried  many  cargoes  of  ardent  spirit;  that  bottles 
lay  in  the  seaweed  at  the  bottoms  of  the  hampers  of 
lobsters  which  I  brought  to  land.  I  wondered  how 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT     121 

Mrs.  Maher  managed  to  dispose  of  it  when  she  got 
it  without  attracting  suspicion.  Patterson  was 
Vaguely  aware  that  something  was  going  on,  on  the 
island.  He  had  not  the  slightest  idea  what  it  was. 
I  wondered  if  Patterson  would  be  pleased  or  angry 
if  he  knew  the  truth.  Would  he  regard  illicit  whisky 
as  more  or  less  dangerous  to  the  state  than  smug- 
gled arms  ? 

These  were  fascinating  problems,  and  my  mind 
worked  round  and  round  on  them.  I  am  told  that 
mental  activity  is  the  enemy  of  sleep,  and  that  the 
man  who  is  fool  enough  to  go  to  bed  with  an  inter- 
esting question  writhing  in  his  brain  is  doomed  to 
hours  of  wakefulness.  That  was  not  my  experience 
that  night.  I  fell  asleep,  and  my  pipe  dropped, 
half-smoked,  from  my  mouth.  I  slept  soundly,  for 
I  slept  through  the  sunrise.  I  could  not  have  slept 
more  soundly  if  I  had  spent  my  last  waking  hours 
reading  over  my  own  old  sermons. 

When  I  woke  again,  or  was  wakened,  the  sun 
was  high  and  it  must  have  been  about  six  o'clock. 
I  heard  a  loud  shrill  whistling  from  the  forepart 
of  the  boat,  and  saw  Tommy's  head  rising  from  the 
sail  locker.  He  had  chosen  ''Danny  Boy,"  a  pathetic 
old  Irish  air,  for  his  morning  tune.  But  he  whistled 
it  as  if  there  were  no  such  things  as  yearning  or 
melancholy  in  the  world.  Even  the  wail  of  the  three 
long  notes  at  the  end  of  the  second  phrase  of  the 
melody  became  as  cheerful  as  the  trills  of  a  skylark, 
when  Tommy  whistled  them. 


122    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

He  looked  round  him  for  a  moment,  and  then, 
putting  his  hands  on  the  coaming  of  the  locker, 
swung  himself  on  deck.  He  had  somehow  managed 
to  get  his  clothes  off  in  the  cramped  space  below,  and 
he  stood  for  a  moment  naked  on  the  gunwale  with 
one  hand  on  the  shrouds.  Then  he  plunged  over- 
board, and  the  whistling  stopped  abruptly.  A  mo- 
ment later  his  head  appeared,  sleek  and  shining 
above  the  water,  and  he  began  to  whistle  again, 
taking  up  the  tune  exactly  where  he  left  it  when 
he  plunged.  He  lay  on  his  back  and  kicked,  raising 
small  columns  of  foamy  water  and  making  a  great 
splashing.  But  I  could  still  hear  the  tune,  shrill 
and  clear.  It  is  not  every  one  who  can  whistle  loudly 
when  immersed  in  cold  water,  and,  while  kicking 
violently.  I  found  myself  envying  Tommy. 

He  caught  sight  of  me  and  stopped  whistling. 

"Good  morning,  Uncle  Terence,"  he  said.  "Glo- 
rious, isn't  it?" 

I  began  to  think  it  was.  Tommy  turned  over  on 
his  side,  swam  a  few  strokes,  and  then  dived.  I 
could  see  him  swimming  towards  me  under  water. 
His  body  looked  curiously  green.  He  came  to  the 
surface  again  close  to  the  side  of  the  "Aurora." 

"Come  along,  Uncle  Terence,"  he  said.  "This  is 
simply  splendid." 

I  have  heard  a  good  deal  in  my  time  about  the 
respect  due  by  youth  to  age,  and  the  failure  of  the 
generation  which  is  treading  on  our  heels  to  recog- 
nise our  dignity.  To  me  nothing  is  more  hateful 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT     123 

than  respect  from  a  boy  or  a  girl.  The  best  compli- 
ment youth  can  pay  me  is  to  forget  that  I  am  old. 
That  was  just  what  Tommy  did  when  he  appealed 
to  me  to  plunge  into  the  water  after  him,  and  seemed 
confident  that  I  should  find  it  as  glorious  as  he  did. 
I  rose,  kicked  the  stiffness  out  of  my  legs,  and 
stripped.  I  noticed,  while  I  took  off  my  shirt,  that 
a  boat  with  a  brown  jib  and  a  white  mainsail  was 
approaching  the  island,  running  fair  before  the 
morning  breeze.  She  had  reached  the  entrance  of 
the  bay,  but  I  was  intent  on  my  bathe,  and  thought 
nothing  about  her.  I  stepped  out  of  the  cockpit  on 
to  the  narrow  deck  outside  the  coaming.  I  steadied 
myself  for  a  moment  with  my  hand  on  the  boom,  and 
then  took  a  few  steps  aft,  and  plunged  in  from  the 
"Aurora's"  counter. 

I  am  not  only  old,  I  am  inclined  to  be  fat.  But 
I  can  still  take  a  neat  header.  I  was  conscious  that 
I  disappeared  with  scarcely  a  splash.  I  rose,  imme- 
diately, in  time  to  hear  Tommy's  shout  of  approval. 

"I  say,  that's  good,"  he  said,  "you  went  in  like 
a  seal  off  a  rock." 

My  example  stimulated  him.  He  swam  to  the 
boat's  side,  made  a  wriggling  spring,  and  gripped  the 
shrouds.  There  was  a  confused  struggling  of  legs 
and  arms.  Then  Tommy  stood  on  deck.  I  could 
take  a  header  still,  and  swim  well  enough  when  I 
was  in  the  water,  but  I  was  not  at  all  sure  that  I 
could  grasp  the  "Aurora's"  shrouds,  or  pull  myself 
on  board  if  I  got  my  hands  on  them. 


124    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

"Cast  off  the  throat  halyard,"  I  shouted,  "and* 
throw  the  end  of  it  overboard." 

Tommy  did  as  I  bade  him,  and,  I  am  thankful  to 
say,  offered  me  no  further  help.  I  wanted  none, 
and  the  offer  would  have  been  an  insult.  Any  man 
can  get  into  a  boat  from  the  water  if  he  has  a  rope 
in  his  hand  which  is  led  up  to  a  block  on  the  hounds 
of  the  mast.  I  climbed  on  board  and  stood  a  little 
breathless,  rubbing  the  water  from  my  thighs,  but 
ready  to  show  Tommy  how  to  take  a  proper  header. 
They  have  a  swimming  bath  at  Haileybury,  and  I 
have  no  doubt  that  Tommy  practised  there  all 
through  the  summer  term,  taking  running  headers 
from  the  side  of  the  bath  or  bounding  high  in  the 
air  from  the  spring  board.  But  for  all  that,  and 
though  he  has  the  advantage  of  being  only  sixteen 
years  old,  I  can  still  take  a  better  header  than  he 
can. 

Our  shouts  woke  Floyd.  He  crept  out  of  the 
cabin  in  his  pyjamas,  sniffed  the  fresh  air,  and 
looked  at  the  sun. 

"I  wish  I  could  swim/'  he  said. 

"I  say,  Floyd,"  I  said,  "I've  got  some  good  news 
for  you.  That  fellow  Flanagan  dug  up  the " 

I  glanced  at  Tommy  who  was  standing  on  the 
counter  poised  for  another  header.  He  plunged  in, 
and  I  felt  I  could  speak  freely  to  Floyd. 

"He's  got  the  sword  of  the  left-handed  king, 
and  the  chalice." 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT     125 

"I  thought  he  had/'  said  Floyd,  "and,  of  course, 
he  won't  part  with  them." 

It  was,  no  doubt,  incredible  to  Floyd,  that  any- 
one should,  for  any  consideration  give  up  such 
treasures.  He  scarcely  believed  me  when  I  told 
him  that  they  were  his. 

"The  only  condition  he  makes,"  I  said,  "is  that 
we  leave  the  island  at  once." 

"No  difficulty  about  that,"  said  Floyd.  "I  don't 
want  to  stay  here  in  the  least." 

Then  he  too  began  to  whistle — a  hymn.  I  recog- 
nised it  at  once.  It  begins,  "I'm  but  a  stranger  here." 
He  had  more  sense  of  the  appropriate  than  Tommy 
in  his  choice  of  tunes. 

Tommy  climbed  on  board  again  and  appealed  to 
Floyd  to  join  our  bathe. 

"It  doesn't  matter  whether  you  can  swim  or  not," 
he  said,  "we'll  look  after  you,  and  not  let  you 
drown." 

Floyd  must  have  been  extraordinarily  elated  by 
the  news  about  the  sword  and  chalice.  To  my 
amazement  he  slipped  off  the  jacket  of  his  pyjamas. 
I  thought  he  meant  to  jump  straight  into  deep 
water,  trusting  to  Tommy  and  me  to  pull  him  out. 
But  at  the  last  moment  he  hesitated. 

"I  can't  swim,"  he  said.     "I  wish  I  could." 

Tommy  seized  the  life-buoy  which  lay  under  the 
legs  of  the  crutch  on  which  the  boom  rested. 

"Here  you  are,"   he  said,   "guaranteed  by  the 


126    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

Admiralty  to  support  three  full-grown  men  for 
hours." 

Floyd  wriggled  his  head  and  shoulders  through 
the  buoy.  He  looked  like  a  huge,  rather  deformed 
mushroom  when  he  stood  up.  But  he  is  a  man  of 
spirit.  He  sat  on  the  side  of  the  boat  for  a  minute, 
and  then  let  his  legs  and  body  slip  slowly  into  the 
water.  Tommy  encouraged  him  by  whistling 
"Danny  Boy"  right  through,  allegretto,  con  molto 
spirito.  Then  came  a  moment  when  Floyd's  hands, 
resting  on  the  deck  behind  him,  could  no  longer  sup- 
port him.  He  fell  forward  with  an  immense  splash 
into  the  sea.  Tommy  stopped  whistling,  and  gave  a 
joyous  whoop.  He  raced  along  the  deck  towards 
the  stern,  stubbed  his  toe  on  a  cleat,  slipped,  and  fell 
sideways  into  the  water.  I  took  another  neat  and 
dignified  header  from  the  counter.  When  I  came 
up  Tommy  was  laughing  breathlessly.  Floyd,  his 
head  perfectly  dry,  his  shoulders  no  more  than 
splashed,  was  bobbing  about  like  the  float  on  the 
end  of  the  line  of  a  riverside  fisherman. 

Then  the  boat  which  I  had  seen  at  the  entrance 
of  the  bay  bore  down  on  us.  She  was  moving  slowly 
with  a  light  breeze  dead  behind  her.  Her  jib  hung 
limp.  Her  mainsail,  boomed  out  against  her  port 
shroud,  hid  the  helmsman  and  the  crew.  But  I 
recognised  the  boat.  She  was  the  "Seven  Daugh- 
ters." I  wondered  whether  Mrs.  Maher,  anxious 
about  the  safety  of  her  trade,  had  come  out  to  the 
island  in  the  hope  of  being  able  to  kidnap  Floyd 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    127 

and  carry  him  away.  The  "Seven  Daughters"  drew 
slowly  abreast  of  the  "Aurora."  I  could  see  at  last 
who  was  on  board  of  her.  Patterson  sat  at  the  tiller. 
He  had  Constable  Moran  with  him  to  work  the 
sails. 

I  was  not  very  well  pleased  to  see  Patterson  and 
a  policeman  along  with  him.  The  Flanagans  would 
certainly  resent  his  arrival.  They  might  even  think 
that  I  had  broken  faith  with  them,  though  I  did  not 
want  him  on  the  island  any  more  than  they  did. 
However,  I  swam  towards  him  and  hailed  him 
cheerfully. 

"Hullo,"  I  shouted,  "come  to  join  the  picnic? 
But  you're  late.  We're  going  home  almost  at  once." 

I  made  that  clear,  in  the  hope  that,  when  he  heard 
we  were  leaving  the  island,  Patterson  might  not 
insist  on  landing.  He  might  possibly  round  up  his 
boat  and  sail  away  again.  He  must  have  recognised 
the  "Aurora"  as  soon  as  he  entered  the  bay.  But  I 
do  not  think  he  knew  who  the  bathers  were  until  I 
hailed  him.  He  did  not  seem  the  least  pleased  to 
see  us.  He  looked  at  me  and  then  stared  at  Floyd,. 

"Good  Lord!"  he  said,  and  turned  his  head 
away. 

There  was  every  excuse  for  his  tone  of  disgust. 
Floyd  was  exceedingly  ridiculous  in  his  life-buoy., 
Tommy,  who  was  climbing  on  board  the  "Aurora" 
again,  looked  like  a  hairless  ape.  I  could  keep  up 
no  appearance  of  dignity,  and  Patterson  must  have 
got  up  very  early  in  the  morning  in  order  to  reach. 


128    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

Inisheeny  at  half -past  six.  He  had  probably  started 
without  sufficient  breakfast.  He  was  naturally 
annoyed  with  me  for  going  off  in  the  "Aurora" 
without  saying  a  word  to  him  or  offering  any  kind 
of  apology.  He  was  still,  of  course,  full  of  his 
theory  about  the  Floyds  being  agents  of  a  secret 
society.  Yet  the  sight  of  Floyd,  bobbing  about  with 
my  life-buoy  around  him,  ought  to  have  removed 
that  suspicion  entirely  from  his  mind.  No  danger- 
ous revolutionary,  charged  with  the  dark  counsels 
of  a  secret  society,  would  float  about  the  sea  with 
a  ring  round  him,  like  a  malicious  caricature  of  a 
water  lily  in  a  pond,  lifting  its  head  above  its  leaf. 
I  do  not  suppose  that  in  all  history  there  is  a  single 
recorded  instance  of  a  conspirator  placing  himself  in 
such  a  position.  And  Patterson  reads  history.  He 
ought  to  have  known  that  the  thing  was  impossible. 
If  I  were  to  see  a  man  in  spangled  tights  hanging 
by  his  heels  from  a  swinging  trapeze,  I  should  not 
suspect  him  of  being  a  bishop.  Patterson  ought  to 
have  reasoned  in  the  same  way  about  Floyd  and  the 
life-buoy. 

Patterson's  obvious  ill  temper  rather  spoiled  my 
enjoyment.  It  certainly  made  Floyd  uncomfortable, 
and  affected  even  Tommy's  spirits.  Instead  of 
attempting  another  header  he  went  into  the  cabin 
and  took  my  only  towel.  I  followed  him  on  board, 
finding  it  this  time  much  more  difficult  to  get  out 
of  the  water.  Indeed,  I  was  glad  enough  to  accept 
a  hoist  from  Tommy,  who  put  his  hand  under  my 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    129 

arm  at  a  difficult  moment.  Floyd  paddled  himself 
and  his  buoy  to  the  side  of  the  boat  and  we  hauled 
him  on  board  without  much  difficulty.  I  made 
Tommy  give  him  the  towel.  Floyd  was  my  guest, 
as  well  as  being  a  man  of  high  position  in  the  learned 
world.  I  did  not  like  to  think  of  his  getting  wet 
into  his  shirt,  or  standing  about  on  the  deck  till  he 
dried. 

Patterson  rounded  up  and  dropped  his  anchor  a 
little  way  astern  of  us.  I  could  see  as  I  dressed 
that  he  and  Constable  Moran  were  busy  with  a 
basket,  getting  out  food.  I  hoped  that  his  temper 
would  improve  after  he  had  eaten  something. 
Meanwhile  he  was  likely  to  stay  where  he  was.  He 
had  brought  no  dinghy  with  him  and  Mrs.  Maher's 
boat  is  much  too  big  to  be  run  into  the  wretched 
landing  slip  which  the  Inisheeny  people  use.  Poacher 
Quin  would  not,  as  I  knew,  put  off  in  a  curragh 
to  take  Patterson  or  any  other  policeman  on  shore. 
The  police  are  always  persecuting  him  and  arrest- 
ing him  on  one  pretext  or  another.  It  was  not  to 
be  supposed  that  he  would  go  out  of  his  way  now  to 
do  a  good  turn  to  Patterson.  Nor  would  the  island 
Flanagans  stir.  Patterson  suspected  them  of  various 
kinds  of  sedition,  privy  conspiracy,  and  rebellion. 
It  was  only  natural  that  they  should  suspect  Patter- 
son. They  certainly  would  not  land  him  on  their 
island.  If  he  wanted  to  go  ashore  he  would  have 
to  appeal  to  me.  I  might  be  able  to  persuade  Quin 
to  land  him  in  a  curragh.  Nobody  else  could.  This 


130    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

thought  rather  pleased  me.  I  was  not  exactly  angry 
with  Patterson,  but  he  had  no  right  to  say  "Good 
Lord!'*  in  a  tone  of  contempt,  and  turn  his  head 
the  other  way  when  he  saw  me  in  the  sea. 

When  I  had  dressed  and  was  feeling  warm  again 
I  got  the  "Primus"  stove  on  deck  and  set  Tommy 
to  clean  the  soles.  It  gratified  me  to  see  that 
Patterson  had  nothing  in  his  basket  but  bread  and 
cold  meat.  I  thought  that  the  smell  of  frying  fish, 
borne  down  to  his  boat  on  the  breeze,  would  make 
him  feel  envious.  Then  for  the  first  time  that 
morning,  I  thought  of  Molly.  She  was  on  shore  in 
her  tent,  and  had  nothing  to  eat.  She  must,  of 
course,  be  brought  off  to  the  "Aurora'''  for  breakfast. 
I  looked  out  for  Poacher  Quin,  who  ought  to  have 
been  waiting  for  signals  and  orders  beside  his 
curragh.  He  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  Molly  her- 
self came  out  of  the  tent  and  waved  her  hand  to 
me.  I  did  not  know  for  certain  what  she  was  try- 
ing to  convey  to  me  by  waving  her  hand,  but  I  could 
easily  realise  that  she  was  hungry  and  eager  to  get 
on  board  for  breakfast. 

I  looked  up  and  down  the  shore.  I  scanned  the 
fields.  I  got  out  my  glasses  from  the  cabin  and 
examined  the  whole  surface  of  the  island,  so  far  as 
it  was  in  view.  There  was  not  a  sign  of  Poacher 
Quin  anywhere.  JVhat  struck  me  as  still  more  odd 
was  that  no  Flanagan,  man,  woman,  or  child,  was 
in  sight.  I  was  sure  that  I  had  seen  people  moving 
about  through  the  fields  and  going  in  and  out  of 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    131 

the  cottages  when  I  was  bathing.  They  had  all 
disappeared. 

Patterson  hailed  me  from  his  boat. 

"I  want  to  speak  to  you/*  he  said.  "Will  you 
come  over  here?" 

"Unless  I  take  another  swim,"  I  said.     "I  can't." 

Patterson  saw  the  truth  of  that.  His  next 
question  showed  that  he  was  awakening  to  the 
situation. 

"How  do  you  mean  to  get  ashore?"  he  asked. 

It  ought  to  have  been  quite  plain  that  I  could  not 
get  ashore  at  all  unless  someone  came  off*  for  me 
in  a  curragh.  And  there  was  no  sign  of  Quin.  I 
began  to  think  that  he  had  either  hidden  himself 
deliberately,  or  else  died  suddenly  during  the  night. 
The  only  human  being  in  sight  on  the  island  was 
Molly  Floyd.  She  had  come  down  to  the  landing- 
place  and  stood  there  waving  her  arms  in  a  way 
which  struck  me  as  silly,  until  I  realised  that  she 
was  signalling.  I  suppose  she  must  have  been  a 
Girl  Guide  or  something  of  that  sort  at  one  time  in 
her  life.  She  had  evidently  learned  flag  flapping 
thoroughly.  She  seemed  anxious  to  deliver  her 
message  whatever  it  was;  but  I  could  not  under- 
stand what  she  was  at.  I  was  born  too  early  for 
the  Boy  Scout  movement  and  never  had  the  chance 
of  learning  anything  really  useful. 

Floyd  was  trying  to  shave  at  the  mirror  in  the 
cabin.  I  appealed  to  him.  He  said  he  thought  he 
could  spell  out  Molly's  message  if  she  worked  slowly, 


132    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

and  if  he  had  a  book  containing  the  alphabet  in  his 
hand.  Molly  was  flapping  at  very  high  speed,  and 
there  was  no  book  on  signalling  on  board,  so  Floyd 
was  not  much  use.  I  tried  Tommy,  who  was  clean- 
ing fish,  with  his  head  over  the  side  of  the  boat. 

"Tommy,"  I  said,  "are  you  a  Boy  Scout,  or  a 
Sea  Scout,  or  a  Cub,  or  anything  of  that  kind?" 

I  knew  he  could  not  be.  Our  great  public 
schools,  faithful  to  their  tradition  of  class  exclusive- 
ness,  do  not  enroll  their  pupils  in  democratic  organ- 
isations like  the  Boy  Scouts.  They  have,  however, 
Officers'  Training  Corps  of  their  own,  and  I  thought 
it  possible  that  Tommy  might  have  been  taught 
signalling. 

"Look  at  Molly,"  I  said,  "and  try  if  you  can  make 
out  what  she's  at." 

Tommy  looked  at  her  obediently,  lifting  his  head 
from  his  work  and  holding  a  half  disembowelled 
fish  in  his  hand.  But  I  saw  at  once  that  he  knew 
nothing  about  signalling.  If  I  ever  meet  one  of 
the  able  men  who  write  novels  to  prove  the  useless- 
ness  of  our  public  schools,  I  shall  tell  them  that 
Tommy  Graham,  a  5th  Form  boy  at  Haileybury, 
cannot  read  plain  signalling.  That  will  help  him 
to  open  up  a  new  line  of  attack,  and  he  will,  I  hope, 
be  grateful  to  me.  He  ought  to  be.  He  would  never 
find  out  a  thing  like  that  for  himself.  For  I  am 
sure  that,  being  a  very  clever  man,  he  does  not 
associate  with  the  stupid  people  whom  our  public 
schools  turn  loose  into  the  world.  That,  indeed, 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    133 

may  be  the  reason  he  writes  the  kind  of  books  he 
does. 

Tommy  waved  his  fish  in  the  air  by  way  of  reply 
to  Molly,  and  then  went  on  with  the  work  of 
cleaning  it. 

Patterson  hailed  me  from  his  boat. 

"Miss  Floyd  is  signalling  to  us,"  he  shouted. 

"I  know  that,"  I  said.  "Can  you  read  what  she's 
saying?" 

"No,"  shouted  Patterson,  "I  can't;  but  Constable 
Moran  has  been  through  a  course  of  signalling  and 
holds  a  certificate  for  efficiency." 

"Good,"  I  said,  "turn  him  on  to  the  job  and 
let's  hear  what  Miss  Floyd  wants  to  say." 

I  began  to  wish  that  Patterson  had  anchored  the 
"Seven  Daughters"  a  little  nearer  the  "Aurora."  It 
was  highly  inconvenient,  now  that  we  were  on  speak- 
ing terms  with  each  other,  to  have  to  shout  every- 
thing we  wanted  to  say.  And  it  irritated  me  to  see 
him  talking  to  Moran  without  being  able  to  know 
what  he  said.  I  gathered  by  watching  their  faces 
that  Moran  was  very  unwilling  to  try  to  read  Molly's 
message.  Patterson  argued  with  him,  and  in  the 
end  gave  him  a  sharp  order.  The  men  of  the  Royal 
Irish  Constabulary  are  well  disciplined  and  quite 
accustomed  to  attempting  what  they  know  to  be 
impossible.  Moran  took  his  stand  on  the  fore  deck 
near  the  mast.  He  turned  his  face  resolutely 
towards  the  shore  and  drew  a  notebook  from  his 
pocket 


134    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

Molly  caught  sight  of  him  at  once,  and  began  to 
signal  more  rapidly  than  ever.  She  went  far  too 
fast  for  Constable  Moran.  He  made  one  or  two 
attempts  to  write  something  down.  Then  he  took 
to  scratching  his  ear  nervously  with  his  pencil. 
After  a  few  minutes  he  gave  up,  closed  his  notebook, 
and  turned  to  Patterson.  I  felt  more  than  ever 
annoyed  that  I  could  not  hear  what  they  were  say- 
ing to  each  other,  but  I  kept  my  glasses  on  them, 
and  by  watching  their  faces  could  guess  at  their 
talk.  Patterson  suggested  a  plan  of  some  kind. 
Constable  Moran  was  doubtful  whether  it  would  be 
any  use.  Patterson  insisted  on  its  being  tried. 
Constable  Moran  took  his  place  near  the  mast 
again  and  began  to  signal  to  Molly. 

He  did  not  say  very  much,  but  he  took  a  long 
time  about  saying  it.  He  paused  between  each 
gesture,  giving  me  the  impression  that  he  had  to 
think  what  the  next  movement  ought  to  be.  Either 
his  certificate  for  proficiency  was  very  easily  won, 
or  else  he  won  it  a  long  time  ago  and  had  not  prac- 
tised since.  I  never  saw  anything  so  deliberate  and 
cautious  as  his  movements.  However,  Molly  under- 
stood him.  I  very  nearly  understood  him  myself. 
What  he  had  to  say  to  Molly — what  any  intelligent 
man  in  his  position  would  say — was  obvious. 
"Please  go  slowly."  And  this,  so  Patterson  told 
me  afterwards,  was  what  he  did  say,  except  that 
he  left  out  the  "please."  Molly,  having  taken  in 
this  request,  began  her  message  all  over  again.  This 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    135 

time  she  went  so  slowly  that  I  thought  she  would 
be  tired  before  she  finished.  Moran  took  down  what 
she  said  word  by  word.  Then  he  handed  over  his 
notebook  to  Patterson.  Patterson  read  the  message 
through  two  or  three  times  and  I  could  see  that  he 
was  puzzled.  At  last  he  shouted  to  me. 

"I  can't  quite  make  out  what  she  wants.  Moran 
has  got  muddled  up.  But  there's  something  about 
a  black  pig." 

Molly  might  very  well  have  left  that  out.  She 
had,  no  doubt,  an  adventurous  time  during  the  night 
with  that  pig,  and  I  could  understand  that  she 
wanted  to  tell  us  all  about  it.  But  she  must  have 
known  that  Constable  Moran  was  in  no  position  to 
enjoy  chatty  conversation.  In  dealing  with  him  she 
ought  to  have  confined  herself  strictly  to  what  was 
necessary.  I  shouted  an  explanation  to  Patterson. 

"That's  all  right  and  quite  unimportant.  She's 
merely  telling  us  that  she  was  wakened  up  two  or 
three  times  during  the  night  by  Michael  Flanagan's 
black  pig.  Poacher  Quin  told  us  she  would  be." 

"She  says  she's  had  some  tea,"  said  Patterson. 

"I'm  glad  to  hear  that,"  I  said.  "One  of  the 
children  must  have  brought  it  to  her.  The  Flana- 
gans are  decent  people  whatever  you  may  say." 

"Can't  hear,"  shouted  Patterson,  "What's  that 
you  say?" 

"Nothing,"  I  yelled,  "only  that  the  Flanagans 
aren't  so  bad  as  you  think  them." 

Floyd,    properly    shaved    and    almost    entirely 


136    ADVENTURERS.  OF  THE  NIGHT 

dressed,  came  out  of  the  cabin.  I  told  him  that 
Molly,  after  a  broken  night's  rest,  had  enjoyed  her 
morning  tea.  I  thought  he  might  be  anxious  about 
her.  He  was  not. 

"Molly's  all  right,"  he  said.  "Molly's  always  all 
right." 

"She  wants  some  breakfast,"  shouted  Patterson, 

There  was  plenty  of  breakfast  on  board  the 
"Aurora,"  and  I  did  not  see  how  Molly  was  to  get 
her  share,  unless  someone  could  be  found  to  put 
her  on  board. 

"As  well  as  I  can  make  out  from  what  Moran 
took  down,"  Patterson  shouted,  "the  island  people 
have  all  disappeared,  and  she  can't  get  anyone  to  put 
her  off." 

"Tell  her  to  go  and  look  for  them,"  I  shouted. 
"The  island  is  quite  small  and  there  aren't  any  caves 
or  hiding  places.  She's  bound  to  find  someone 


soon." 


Patterson  gave  an  order  to  Moran,  who  pulled 
himself  together  for  the  effort  of  signalling  another 
message.  I  could  see  that  he  was  doubtful  of  his 
own  ability  and  I  wanted  to  let  him  off  as  easily  as 
I  could.  But  I  knew  perfectly  well  why  Poacher 
Quin  and  all  the  Flanagans  had  disappeared,  and  I 
knew  that  they  would  not  come  back  again  or  launch 
a  curragh  unless  they  were  reassured  about  our 
intentions.  They  had  seen  Patterson  and  Moran 
arriving  in  the  "Seven  Daughters,"  and  they  did  not 
want  the  police  on  the  island. 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    137 

"Tell  her,"  I  shouted,  "to  find  Poacher  Quin,  and 
to  promise  him Can  you  hear  me?" 

"I  can  hear  you  all  right,"  said  Patterson,  "but 
I'm  not  sure  that  Moran  can  signal  all  that.  Don't 
try  him  too  high." 

Constable  Moran  had  already  begun  to  spell  out 
the  first  part  of  the  message.  He  stopped  abruptly. 

"Tell  Moran/'  I  shouted,  "to  tell  Miss  Floyd  to 
tell  Poacher  Quin  that  he's  to  bring  out  with  him 
the  sword  of  King  Carmac  the  Left-handed,  and 
the  Chalice  of  Salmacius." 

"To  bring  what?"  said  Patterson. 

He  curved  his  hand  round  his  ear,  and  listened 
intently.  I  yelled  as  loudly  as  I  could. 

"The  sword  of  King  Cormac  the  Left-handed." 

"Can't  hear,"  said  Patterson.  "Did  you  say 
sword?" 

"Yes.  The  sword  of  King  Cormac.  Don't  pre- 
tend to  be  stupid,  Patterson.  You  must  have  heard 
of  the  man  I  mean,  Cormaccius  Rex  Scseva,  vulgo 
Kithogue,  one  of  the  most  famous  of  all  the  Irish 
kings.  And  the  chalice— got  that?  C-H-A-L-I-C-E, 
chalice  of  the  Abbot  Salmacius." 

Patterson  began  to  swear.  I  could  see  he  was 
swearing  by  the  expression  of  his  face.  Constable 
Moran  sat  down  on  deck  and  gave  up  all  attempts 
to  signal  to  Molly. 

"All  right,"  I  shouted,  "if  Moran  can't  manage 
that,  just  say  sword  and  chalice  without  mentioning 
names :  Quin  will  understand.  After  all  there  can't 


138    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

be  many  swords  on  the  island,  and  I'm  pretty  sure 
there's  only  one  chalice." 

"I  can't  make  out  what  you're  saying,"  said 
Patterson.  "It  seems  to  me  you're  talking  non- 
sense. Either  that  or  there's  some  echo  playing  the 
deuce  with  your  voice." 

"It's  perfectly  simple,*  I  said.  "Listen  and  I'll 
say  it  over  slowly.  Miss  Floyd  is  to  find  Poacher 
Quin,  and  to  tell  him  that  he  and  Peter  Flanagan 
are  to  bring  me  the  sword  of  King  Cormac  the  Left- 
handed  and " 

"Damn  it,"  said  Patterson,  "I  can't  stand  this. 
Wait  a  moment  and  I'll  swim  over  to  you  and  hear 
what  it  is  you  want  to  say. 

He  began  to  undress  as  he  spoke.  I  do  not  know 
whether  it  was  modesty,  weariness,  or  hunger  which 
moved  Molly.  She  turned  her  back  on  the  shore 
and  walked  away.  I  saw  her  disappear  over  the 
ridge  of  the  island.  I  was  not  particularly  uncom- 
fortable about  her.  She  was  sure  to  light  on  a  few 
Flanagans  somewhere,  and  they  would  give  her 
some  breakfast. 

Patterson,  who  is  not  a  very  good  swimmer, 
arrived  panting  at  the  side  of  the  "Aurora"  and  we 
pulled  him  on  board.  He  asked  for  a  towel  and  a 
suit  of  clothes.  Our  one  towel  was  very  wet  and  I 
had  no  clothes  to  offer  him.  I  told  Tommy  to  fetch 
my  number  two  jib  out  of  the  sail  locker. 

"You  won't  find  it  a  very  comfortable  thing  to  dry 
with,"  I  said,  "but  it's  better  than  nothing.  After- 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    139 

wards  you  can  have  Floyd's  pyjamas.  It's  that  or 
my  oilskins,  for  I've  no  spare  clothes.  You'll  lend 
him  your  pyjamas,  won't  you,  Floyd?" 

Floyd  is  generous  and  good-natured  about  every- 
thing except  ancient  swords  and  chalices.  He 
fetched  the  pyjamas  from  the  cabin, 

"I  couldn't  make  out  what  the  deuce  you  were 
saying,"  said  Patterson.  "Who  is  this  fellow, 
Cormac?  I  never  heard  of  any  Cormac  on 
Inisheeny.  And  what  about  his  sword?" 

I  could  see  that  his  suspicions  were  aroused  again. 
The  presence  of  a  stranger  with  a  sword  on 
Inisheeny  was  enough  to  confirm  his  old  theory  of 
a  landing  of  arms  for  the  use  of  rebels.  With  that 
idea  fixed  in  his  mind  he  was  quite  capable  of  think- 
ing that  Salmacius  was  a  Bolshevik,  from  Russia, 
and  "chalice,"  a  code  word  for  machine  guns. 

I  saw  that  I  had  a  long  and  difficult  explanation 
before  me,  and  I  was  beginning  to  feel  very  hungry. 

"Let's  have  breakfast,"  I  said.  "We  can't  signal 
any  more  till  Miss  Floyd  comes  back,  and  I  don't 
feel  equal  to  going  into  the  history  of  Cormaccius 
Rex  till  I've  had  something  to  eat." 


CHAPTER  X 

AFTER  breakfast  I  lent  Patterson  a  spare 
pipe  I  keep  on  board,  and  gave  him  some 
tobacco.  I  set  Tommy  to  wash  up  the  plates 
and  cups.  Floyd,  who  does  not  smoke,  and  is 
therefore  inclined  to  be  active  after  meals,  offered 
to  help  him.  This  left  me  free  to  talk  plainly  to 
Patterson.  , 

"I  may  as  well  tell  you  at  once,"  I  said,  "that 
you  are  entirely  wrong  in  your  idea  that  the  Floyds 
are  Sinn  Feiners  or  political  agents  of  any  kind. 
Floyd  is  a  perfectly  harmless  antiquary." 

"What  does  he  want  on  Inisheeny  then?"  said 
Patterson.  "There  isn't  so  much  as  a  ruined  church 
on  the  island,  which  is  a  surprising  thing  when  you 
come  to  think  of  it.  I  shouldn't  think  there  is 
another  square  mile  anywhere  in  Ireland  without  a 
ruined  church  on  it." 

"Ruined  churches  aren't  the  only  things  anti- 
quaries like,"  I  said.  "Floyd  prefers  crannogs* 
He's  a  specialist  on  crannogs." 

"That  sort  of  thing  leads  on  to  politics,"  said 
Patterson.  "If  he  isn't  a  Sinn  Feiner  now  he  soon 
will  be." 

It  was  the  word  crannog,  plainly  an  Irish  word, 
which  led  Patterson  astray,  and  there  is  some  excuse 

140 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT     141 

for  him.  A  mere  nodding  acquaintance  with  the 
Irish  language  does  turn  the  most  loyal  people  into 
revolutionaries. 

"Anyhow,"  I  said,  "whether  he's  a  Sinn  Feiner 
•or  not — and  I  don't  believe  he  is — it  wasn't  politics 
brought  him  here.  He  came  to  open  a  crannog,  a 
very  remarkable  crannog,  containing  the  sword  of 
the  Left-handed  King  Cormac,  and  the  chalice  of 
Salmacius,  buried  there  over  a  thousand  years  ago/' 

"That's  what  you  were  trying  to  shout  to  me," 
said  Patterson.  "No  wonder  I  couldn't  make  out 
what  you  were  saying." 

"He  went  to  the  crannog  yesterday  evening,"  I 
said,  "and  found  it  had  been  opened  by  somebody 
else.  That  put  him  out  a  good  deal  as  you  can" 
imagine.  At  first  he  thought  I'd  done  it.  Sneaked 
out  there  without  saying  a  word  to  anyone,  and 
started  excavations  on  my  own.  Of  course,  I 
hadn't." 

"I  don't  suppose  you  knew  there  was  anything  to 
dig  for." 

"That's  what  I  told  Floyd,  and  in  the  end  he 
believed  me.  But  the  place  had  been  all  dug  over. 
There's  no  doubt  about  that.  I  found  out  last  night 
that  Peter  Flanagan  had  been  at  it,  and  had  dug 
out  the  sword  and  the  chalice.  However,  he  doesn't 
want  them,  and  is  going  to  give  them  to  Floyd.  So 
that's  all  right." 

"That's  a  pretty  tall  story,"  said  Patterson. 

He  looked  at  me  doubtfully.    Then  he  glanced  at 


142    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

Floyd,  but  could  not  see  much  of  him,  because  he 
had  his  head  over  the  side  of  the  boat  and  was  dab- 
bling a  teacup  in  the  sea. 

"I  don't  mean  to  say  that  I  think  you're  trying 
to  'pull  my  leg/  "  said  Patterson. 

"Thanks,"  I  said.  "I'd  rather  be  taken  for  a  fool 
than  a  liar.  Your  idea  is  that  Floyd  and  the  Flana- 
gans have  stuffed  me  up  with  this  story." 

"That's  about  it,"  said  Patterson.  "I  don't  want 
to  say  anything  insulting  to  you,  Rector,  but  that 
about  burying  a  sword  a  thousand  years  ago  strikes 
me  as  a  bit  thick." 

It  is,  I  suppose,  "thickish,"  but  I  thought  I  could 
convince  Patterson. 

"I'll  call  Floyd,"  I  said,  "and  I'll  get  him  to  show 
you  his  copy  of  the  original  MS.  which  he  found 
in  a  library  in  Rome." 

"If  you're  going  to  produce  some  beastly  pam- 
phlet in  Irish,"  said  Patterson,  "you  may  save  your- 
self the  trouble.  I  can't  read  Irish,  and  wouldn't 
if  I  could." 

"It  isn't  in  Irish,"  I  said.  "Didn't  I  tell  you  it 
was  written  a  thousand  years  ago — centuries  before 
Irish  became  fashionable.  It's  in  Latin." 

I  called  Floyd.  He  left  his  washing-up  willingly 
enough,  but  I  do  not  think  he  liked  the  idea  of  show- 
ing his  Diary  of  Salmacius  to  Patterson.  It  is 
impossible  to  judge  entirely  by  appearances,  arid 
though  Patterson  is  young  and  healthy-looking,  he 
might  have  been  a  rival  antiquary.  However,  after 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT     143 

a  little  persuasion,  he  went  into  the  cabin  and  got 
the  MS, 

I  was  surprised  to  find  that  Patterson  could  read 
it.  There  must  be  very  few  police  officers  who  can 
read  contracted  mediaeval  Latin,  written  in  a  bad 
hand.  And  he  was  really  interested  in  what  he 
read.  He  saw  at  once  that  the  MS.  was  a  copy  of 
a  genuine  document.  No  forger  would  have  thought 
of  adding  Scaeva  after  the  name  of  an  Irish  king,  or 
translating  the  word  afterwards  as  kithogue. 

"I  found  the  crannog  easily  enough,"  said  Floyd. 
"You  see  the  MS.  speaks  of  'lacus  in  medio  insulae, 
summo  collis.'  Vile  Latin,  of  course,  but  quite 
easily  understood.  I  walked  straight  to  it."  He 
became  actually  enthusiastic  as  he  went  on  with  his 
story.  "I  poked  about  till  I  found  the  causeway, 
'pons  lapideus,'  the  Abbot  calls  it.  'Vix  sub  unda 
submersus.'  That  gave  me  the  only  hint  I  wanted^ 
A  causeway  scarcely  submerged.  There  was  evi- 
dently a  crannog.  What  I  was  afraid  of  was,  that 
the  causeway  might  have  been  broken  up  or  sunk  in 
the  mud.  But  it  hadn't.  Surprisingly  well  those 
old  fellows  built !  I  felt  my  way  out  to  the  crannog, 
and  then  found  it  had  been  opened." 

Patterson  followed  the  story  with  close  attention. 
His  suspicion  of  Floyd  completely  vanished.  Indeed, 
I  think  the  MS.  had  convinced  him  of  Floyd's 
honesty  even  before  he  heard  the  story. 

"And  you  think  that  Peter  Flanagan  has  got  the 
sword  and  chalice,"  said  Patterson.  "Much  more 


144    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

likely  he  has  thrown  them  away  if  he  ever  found 
them." 

"Quin  told  me  last  night,"  I  said,  "that  Peter 
had  them  safe." 

"I  wouldn't  believe  Poacher  Quin,"  said  Patter- 
son, "not  if  he  was  on  his  deathbed  taking  an  oath." 

This  made  Floyd  uneasy. 

"Do  you  think,"  he  said;  "do  you  really  think 
that  he  could  possibly  have  thrown  away  things 

like But  he  couldn't.  No  man  could  do  such 

a  thing." 

"He  didn't  anyhow,"  I  said.  "He's  got  them, 
and  he's  going  to  give  them  to  you." 

But  Floyd  was  not  altogether  reassured. 

"I'd  like  to  go  and  get  them,"  he  said.  "I  think 
we  ought  to  go  ashore  at  once  and  get  them.  It's 
a  very  serious  matter.  It  will  be  nothing  less  than 
a  loss  to  Europe,  a  loss  to  civilisation,  if  these  things 
have  disappeared." 

That,  of  course,  is  nonsense.  Europe  can  get 
along  perfectly  well  without  the  sword  of  King 
Cormac.  Indeed,  considering  the  use  Europe  has 
recently  been  making  of  such  things,  the  fewer 
swords  there  are  about  the  better  for  everybody. 
But  I  understood  Floyd's  feelings  and  I  sympathised 
with  him.  I  would  have  put  him  ashore  if  I  could. 
My  difficulty  was  that  I  had  no  way  of  doing  it 
unless  Molly  found  the  Flanagans  and  brought  one 
or  two  of  them  back  with  her  to  get  out  a  curragh. 

Floyd  became  nervous  and  irritable. 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    145 

"I  must  insist  on  going  ashore  at  once,"  he  said. 

He  might  insist  as  much  as  he  liked,  but  I  had 
no  motor  engine  on  the  "Aurora,"  and  I  wouldn't 
use  it  if  I  had.  The  Inisheeny  landing-place  is 
surrounded  and  fringed  with  jagged  rocks. 

"We  don't  know  what  may  be  happening  on  the 
island  at  this  very  moment,"  said  Floyd. 

I  suppose  he  had  an  idea  that  Peter  Flanagan,  in 
a  state  of  partial  insanity,  might  be  throwing  King 
Cormac's  sword  into  a  bottomless  bog  hole,  as  the 
knight  in  Tennyson's  poem  flung  Excalibur  into  a 
lake. 

Patterson,  who  ought  to  have  had  more  sense, 
joined  Floyd  in  this  foolish  clamour. 

"I  quite  agree  with  you,"  he  said.  "We  ought  to 
go  ashore.  The  Flanagans  are  a  wild  lot.  No  girl 
should  be  left  unprotected  on  the  island.  Miss  FloycJ 
may  be  in  serious  trouble." 

Having  ceased  to  be  suspicious  of  the  Floyds, 
Patterson  was  rushing  into  the  other  extreme  and 
becoming  over  careful  of  them.  I  did  not  see  that 
he  had  any  real  right  to  fuss  about  Molly,  consider- 
ing that  he  wanted  to  arrest  her  only  the  night 
before.  Floyd,  I  was  pleased  to  notice,  snubbed 
Patterson  at  once. 

"Molly's  all  right,"  he  said.  "But— just  think- 
that  man  Flanagan  is  simply  a  savage,  and  has  no 
idea  of  the  value  of  what  he's  got." 

"He  is  a  savage,"  said  Patterson,  "and  that's  why 
I  say  that  Miss  Floyd- " 


146   ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

"What  can  he  possibly  know,"  said  Floyd,  "about 
the  value  of  relics  like  King  Cormac's  sword?" 

I  began  to  get  rather  tired  of  this  duet  of  futile 
complaint. 

"Very  well,"  I  said.  "Go  ashore,  both  of  you. 
I  don't  want  to  keep  you  here." 

I  knew  they  could  not  stir.  Floyd  cannot  swim 
at  all,  and  Patterson  swims  badly.  But  I  had  not 
counted  on  Patterson's  determination  and  resource. 
He  called  Tommy. 

Tommy  had  finished  washing  up.  He  was  sitting 
with  his  back  against  the  mast,  staring  out  to  sea 
over  the  bow  of  the  boat.  He  must  have  found  it 
very  dull;  but  I  suppose  he  thought  he  would  be 
still  duller  if  he  came  aft  and  joined  us  in  the  cockpit. 
He  knew  that  Floyd  had  a  Latin  MS.  on  board,  and 
though  a  5th  Form  Haileybury  boy  can  read  Latin 
fluently,  he  does  not  want  to  do  so  during  the  sum- 
mer holidays. 

"Tommy,"  said  Patterson,  "come  here  for  a 
minute." 

The  boy  came  aft  and  dropped  into  the  cockpit. 

"Do  you  think,"  said  Patterson,  "that  you  could 
swim  ashore?" 

"Of  course  I  could,"  said  Tommy.  "Anyone 
could.  It's  nothing  of  a  swim."  He  rather  liked 
the  idea  of  a  second  bathe.  The  day  was  very  hot, 
and  any  change  was  pleasant  after  sitting  for  an 
hour  staring  at  the  calm  sea. 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT     147 

"Could  you  fetch  off  a  boat  of  some  sort  to  us  ?" 
said  Patterson. 

Tommy  could  see,  as  we  all  could,  three  curraghs 
lying  bottom  up  on  the  shore  above  the  landing 
stage. 

"If  the  oars  are  there  I  could  bring  off  a  cur- 
ragh,"  said  Tommy. 

"Very  well  then,  do,"  said  Patterson. 

"Right-o!"  said  Tommy. 

"There  now,"  said  Patterson.  "It  isn't  impossi- 
ble to  get  on  shore  you  see." 

He  seemed  to  think  he  had  scored  a  point  against 
me,  and  shown  great  cleverness  in  sending  Tommy 
to  swim  ashore.  I  had  thought  of  swimming  half 
an  hour  before  he  did,  and,  if  I  had  wanted  to  go 
ashore,  I  should  have  swam  there  myself,  or  sent 
Tommy.  But  I  had  not  said  anything  about  swim- 
ming, precisely  because  I  did  not  want  to  go  ashore, 
and  was  particularly  anxious  to  keep  Patterson  and 
Floyd  where  they  were. 

Tommy  stripped  rapidly  and  stood  with  one  foot 
on  the  gunwale.  Then  he  plunged  into  the  sea.  I 
watched  him  strike  out  for  the  shore,  giving  a  good 
display  of  an  over-arm  racing  stroke. 

"Patterson,"  I  said,  "you're  responsible  for  what 
that  boy's  doing.  It's  robbery  for  him  to  take  the 
Flanagans'  curraghs.  In  fact,  it's  worse  than  rob- 
bery. It's  piracy  on  the  high  seas." 

Patterson  grinned. 

"If  nothing  worse  than  piracy  is  ever  done  on 


148  ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

Inisheeny,"  he  said,  "the  Flanagans  will  go  to 
heaven  when  they  die." 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by  talking  like 
that/'  I  said.  "There's  nothing  going  on  on  the 
island — and  never  was.  You've  got  a  silly  notion 
that  the  whole  place  is  full  of  cannons  and  machine 
guns,  landed  by  Russian  Bolsheviks,  or  Germans,  or 
Jugo-Slavs,  or  Turks,  or  somebody.  But  that's 
utter  rot." 

"Oh,  is  it?"  said  Patterson.  "Will  you  tell  me, 
then,  why  everybody  is  set  on  keeping  me  and  the 
police  off  the  island?  Do  you  know  I  had  to  steal 
Mrs.  Maher's  boat  this  morning?  She  wouldn't 
lend  it  to  me..  Nor  would  anyone  else  in  Carriga- 
hooly.  And  why  did  everyone  object  to  the  Floyds 
coming  here?  If  the  Flanagans  are  the  kind  of 
innocent  sucking  angels  you  think  they  are,  why 
won't  they  let  anyone  land  on  the  island?  Tell  me 
that." 

I  would  not  tell  him  that.  It  was  not  a  thing 
which  either  Patterson  or  any  other  policeman 
ought  to  know. 

"And  what  was  Peter  Flanagan  doing,  digging  in 
that  crannog?"  said  Patterson. 

"Yes,"  said  Floyd,  "why  did  he  dig  there? 
Unless  he  knew  what  was  in  it,  there  was  no  reason 
for  digging  there." 

"As  well  as  I  can  make  out,"  said  Patterson,  "he 
waded  out  through  an  undrained  bog  and  dug  holes 
in  a  beastly  little  island  in  the  middle  of  it.  Now 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    149 

will  you  tell  me  why  he  did  that  unless  he  wanted 
to  hide  something  ?" 

"You  mean  find  something,"  said  Floyd.  "Find, 
not  hide." 

"Hide,  not  find,"  said  Patterson,  obstinately, 
"He  couldn't  have  expected  to  find  things  there," 

I  had  no  answer  to  give  to  these  showers  of  ques- 
tions. Floyd  was  certainly  wrong  in  supposing  that 
Peter  Flanagan  went  digging  for  King  Cormac's 
sword.  Patterson  was  equally  wrong  in  thinking 
that  he  was  hiding  smuggled  guns.  It  was  no  use 
my  saying  that  he  had  dug  holes  simply  for  the 
sake  of  exercise.  No  one  would  believe  that  of 
Peter  Flanagan  on  any  evidence.  I  could  think  of 
no  reason  for  the  excavation,  except  the  real  one 
and  that,  of  course,  I  could  not  give. 

Tommy  landed  safely,  and  succeeded  in  launching 
one  of  the  curraghs.  He  is  a  boy  of  energy  and 
resource.  I  should  have  shrunk  from  walking  down 
over  sharp  rocks  in  my  bare  feet  with  a  curragh 
balanced  on  my  shoulders.  Tommy  made  nothing 
of  it;  but  he  looked  rather  ridiculous  while  he  was 
doing  it.  A  man  always  looks  ridiculous,  like  some 
large,  ungainly  beetle,  while  he  is  carrying  a  cur- 
ragh. When  he  has  nothing  on  him  in  the  way  of 
clothes  he  looks  grotesque. 

The  oars  were  apparently  forthcoming,  and 
Tommy  was  soon  rowing  off  to  us.  I  made  a  last 
effort  to  persuade  Patterson  not  to  go  on  shore. 


150   ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

"Let  Floyd  go,"  I  said.  "They  won't  mind  him 
so  much,  but  they  don't  want  you." 

"That's  exactly  why  I'm  going,"  said  Patterson. 
"If  they  don't  want  me  it's  a  sign  that  I  ought  to 
be  there." 

"I  call  it  bad  manners,"  I  said,  "to  go  where 
you're  not  wanted.  It's  their  island  and  you 
oughtn't  to  go  there  without  an  invitation.  You 
wouldn't  like  it  if  half  a  dozen  Flanagans  walked 
into  your  house  one  day,  and  sat  down  without 
asking  your  permission." 

"I'd  soon  hoof  them  out  of  that,"  said  Patter- 
son, truculently. 

"Well,"  I  said,  "you  can't  complain  if  they  hoof 
you  off  Inisheeny.  It's  what  they'll  do,  I  expect." 

Then  Tommy  arrived  in  the  curragh.  It  did  not 
take  him  long  to  get  into  his  shirt  and  trousers. 
He  was  the  only  one  of  the  party  who  seemed  to 
want  me  to  go  ashore  with  them.  He  had  an  idea 
that  I  should  be  dull  and  lonely  if  I  were  left  on 
the  "Aurora"  alone.  He  is  an  affectionate  boy,  and 
often  thinks  of  other  people  as  well  as  himself.  But 
I  was  quite  firm  in  my  refusal. 

"I'm  not  going,"  I  said.  "I  hate  rows,  and  you're 
sure  to  have  a  row  with  Flanagan.  I  shouldn't 
wonder  a  bit  if  Peter  Flanagan  Tom  goes  for  you, 
Patterson,  with  King  Cormac's  sword.  It's  the  only 
weapon  on  the  island,  and  of  course  it's  old,  but  it 
must  have  been  a  good  sword  in  its  day." 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    151 

"I'll  deal  with  him  and  your  friend,  the  poacher," 
said  Patterson,  "if  they  attack  us." 

"I'm  sure  you  will,"  I  said,  "and  that's  why  I 
want  to  keep  out  of  it.  If  you  come  back  alive  try 
and  bring  some  bread  with  you.  I  have  a  tinned 
tongue  and  one  sole;  so  I  shan't  starve,  but  I'd  like 
some  bread." 

I  did  not  really  believe  that  there  would  be  any 
serious  fighting.  The  Flanagans  are  a  peaceful  peo- 
ple, and  I  had  some  hope  they  might  not  recognise 
Patterson.  In  Floyd's  pyjamas  he  did  not  look  the 
least  like  a  policeman.  Poacher  Quin  would,  of 
course,  recognise  him  in  any  disguise.  He  has  seen 
a  great  deal  of  Patterson,  far  more  than  he  wants  to. 
But  Poacher  Quin  is  a  thoughtful  and  reasonable 
man.  I  hoped  he  might  take  the  view  that  a  police- 
man in  borrowed  pyjamas  is  not  officially  a  police- 
man at  all,  and  therefore  not  an  enemy.  A  judge 
does  not  pronounce  sentence  when  he  is  wearing  a 
dressing  gown.  He  waits  till  he  gets  into  his  wig 
and  robes.  A  parson  is  not  supposed  to  preach, 
and  very  seldom  does  preach,  without  his  surplice. 
It  was  quite  possible  to  think  that  Patterson  would 
not  try  to  arrest  anyone  when  he  had  left  his  uni- 
form behind  him  in  Mrs.  Maher's  boat. 

My  true  reason  for  staying  on  the  "Aurora"  was 
that  I  wanted  a  little  sleep.  I  had  been  up  most  of 
the  night  before,  and  had  gone  through  a  good  deal 
of  mental  strain.  The  day  was  extremely  close  and 


152    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

heavy,  not  at  all  the  sort  of  day  on  which  it  is 
pleasant  to  walk  about  on  islands,  climbing  walls. 
I  felt  that  I  should  be  happier  by  myself  on  the 
"Aurora." 


CHAPTER  XI 

I  SETTLED  myself  as  comfortably  as  I  could  on 
one  of  the  sofas  in  the  cabin  and  went  to  sleep. 
I  slept  for  two  hours,  and  I  must  have  slept 
very  soundly.    A  sailor,  even  a  yachtsman,  on  board 
his  own  boat  ought  to  be  conscious  in  his  sleep  of  a 
change  of  wind.    A  definite  break  of  settled  weather 
ought  to  rouse  him  to  full  consciousness  at  once.    I 
only  woke  gradually  and  I  did  not  wake  at  all  until 
the  thunderstorm  was  right  over  the  island. 

I  was  aware,  dimly  and  half  consciously,  of  a  din, 
a  confused  mingling  of  various  noises,  rapidly  get- 
ting louder.  I  raised  myself  on  my  elbow,  rubbed  my 
eyes,  and  made  an  effort  to  disentangle  the  different 
sounds  which  had  wakened  me.  The  most  obvious 
was  the  violent  beating  of  heavy  rain  on  the  coach- 
roof  of  the  cabin  and  the  drip  of  water  trickling 
through  the  open  skylight.  Another  watery  sound 
was  almost  as  loud.  A  short  sea  had  got  up  and  the 
waves  were  breaking  in  angry  little  smacks  against 
the  sides  of  the  boat.  There  was  a  strong  wind, 
which  rushed  through  the  "Aurora's"  standing  rig- 
ging with  a  fierce  hiss.  Most  of  the  running  gear 
seemed  to  have  gone  adrift.  I  could  hear  ropes 
whipping  wildly,  blocks  groaning,  and  the  sharp 
knocking  of  some  metal  against  the  mast.  I  took 

153 


,154    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

that  to  be  the  shackle  of  the  peak  halyard  which  had 
worked  loose  off  the  strap  round  the  mainsail  cover. 

I  snatched  an  oilskin  coat  and  a  sou'wester  from 
the  peg  behind  the  cabin  door  and  went  out.  I  was 
not  in  the  least  uneasy  about  the  safety  of  the 
"Aurora."  Her  ground  tackle  is  heavy,  far  too 
heavy  for  comfortable  handling,  and  I  knew  that  for 
his  own  sake  Tommy  had  paid  out  plenty  of  anchor 
chain.  He  had  to  sleep  on  whatever  chain  was  left 
in  the  locker  forward,  so  he  was  sure  to  have  got  rid 
of  as  much  as  he  could.  The  "Aurora"  was  not  in 
the  least  likely  to  drag  her  anchor  and  go  ashore. 
But  I  did  not  like  the  way  everything  had  gone  adrift 
and  no  one  who  cares  for  his  boat  is  content  to  sit 
still  in  shelter  without  knowing  exactly  what  is  hap- 
pening on  deck.  I  was  met  as  I  crawled  out  of  the 
cabin  by  a  vivid  flash  of  lightning,  followed  almost 
immediately  by  a  peal  of  thunder,  and  a  downpour  of 
rain. 

I  spent  a  strenuous  twenty  minutes  securing  hal- 
yards, hauling  tight  and  belaying  sheets,  and  lash- 
ing the  legs  of  the  crutch  on  which  the  boom  rested. 
Then  I  looked  out  to  see  how  Constable  Moran  was 
getting  on  in  the  "Seven  Daughters."  He  was 
having  a  bad  time  of  it,  for  his  mainsail  had  not  been 
properly  made  up  and  was  bellying  wildly  in  the 
wind,  the  gaff  and  the  boom  swinging  from  side  to 
side.  Fortunately,  Constable  Moran,  though  bad  at 
flag  signalling,  is  quite  a  good  man  in  a  boat. 

At  first  I  could  not  see  the  island  at  all,  for  the  rain 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    155 

made  a  thick  curtain  around  me.  But  after  three  or 
four  violent  flashes  of  lightning  the  storm  began  to 
pass  away  westwards.  The  rain  was  still  heavy,  but 
I  was  able  to  see  the  shore.  Molly's  tent  had  dis- 
appeared. It  must  have  been  blown  clean  across  the 
island  and  into  the  sea,  at  the  other  side,  for  it  was 
never  found  again. 

At  first  the  only  living  thing  to  be  seen  on 
Inisheeny  was  Flanagan's  black  pig.  It  did  not  mind 
the  rain,  and  was  enjoying  itself  with  the  contents 
of  the  brown  trunk,  Molly's  clothes,  I  suppose, 
which  it  had  rooted  out  and  scattered. 

A  few  minutes  later  I  saw  a  party  of  five  men,  a 
woman,  and  a  donkey  coming  towards  the  landing- 
place  along  the  track  which  leads  round  the  island. 
I  got  out  my  glasses  and  recognised  Molly  and  Pat- 
terson. They  were  walking  together  at  the  head  of 
the  procession.  They  were  wet,  of  course,  indeed 
they  were  both  soaked  to  the  skin,  but  they  looked 
quite  cheerful.  Patterson  appeared  to  be  actually 
pleased  with  himself  in  spite  of  the  condition  of  the 
pyjamas  which  he  wore.  It  seemed  to  me  plain  that 
he  had  not  arrested  anyone  on  the  island,  or  dis- 
covered a  dangerous  conspiracy  against  the  state. 
He  would  not  have  been  chatting  with  Molly,  and 
laughing,  actually  laughing,  in  the  middle  of  a  thun- 
derstorm, if  he  had  been  engaged  in  any  desper- 
ate work. 

I  was  further  reassured  by  recognising  Poacher 
Quin  and  Peter  Flanagan  Tom,  both  of  them  appar- 


156   ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

ently  free  men.  If  Patterson  had  arrested  anyone 
he  would  have  arrested  them.  But  they  had  no  hand- 
cuffs on  their  wrists  and  were  under  no  restraint. 
Peter  Flanagan  was  walking  behind  Patterson.  He 
was  leading  the  donkey  by  the  ear,  a  simple  way  of 
leading  a  donkey,  which  is  common  on  Inisheeny. 
He  must  have  been  wet,  as  wet  as  Molly  and  Patter- 
son, but  he  did  not  look  limp  or  in  any  way  disturbed. 
He  paced  along  with  all  the  grave  dignity  of  a  mace 
bearer  in  a  civic  procession.  I  have  always  respected 
and  admired  Peter  Flanagan.  I  admired  him  more 
than  ever  then.  Only  a  real  aristocrat  could  have 
preserved  the  appearance  of  perfect  dignity  when 
leading  a  donkey  by  the  ear  through  a  downpour  of 
rain.  The  donkey  had  two  creels  on  its  back,  and 
was  evidently  very  heavily  laden.  It  went  slowly, 
and  stumbled  occasionally.  It  would  not  have  moved 
at  all  if  Poacher  Quin  had  not  been  behind  it  with  a 
stick.  Poacher  Quin  had  no  sense  of  dignity.  He 
beat  the  donkey  as  if  he  enjoyed  doing  it.  Behind 
him  were  Floyd  and  Tommy.  Floyd  was  carrying  in 
his  arms  a  large  bundle  made  up  in  sacking.  He  was 
carrying  it  very  carefully,  and  I  came  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  he  had  actually  secured  either  the  sword  or 
the  chalice,  perhaps  both.  Tommy,  who  had  been 
barefooted  all  day,  was  limping  a  little. 

Molly  was  the  first  to  notice  that  the  tent  had  gone, 
and  that  the  pig  had  got  at  her  trunk.  She  and 
Patterson  ran  on  at  once,  and  Tommy  limped  after 
them.  They  drove  away  the  pig  and  rescued  all  that 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT     157 

was  left  of  Molly's  clothes.  A  disaster  of  that  kind 
would  have  broken  the  temper  of  almost  any  girl. 
Molly  seemed  to  take  it  as  part  of  the  day's  fun. 
With  the  help  of  my  glasses  I  could  make  out  that 
she  was  actually  laughing  as  she  retrieved  her  gar- 
ments from  the  neighbouring  fields  and  packed  them 
into  the  trunk.  Tommy  helped  her  and  must  have 
made  his  feet  much  worse  by  rescuing  a  blue  skirt 
from  the  middle  of  a  whin  bush.  Patterson  took 
summary  vengeance  on  the  pig.  He  found  the  tent 
pole  in  a  ditch,  and  chased  the  pig,  beating  it  sav- 
agely. I  wondered  that  it  did  not  occur  to  him  to 
borrow  the  sword  of  King  Cormac  from  Floyd. 
He  might  have  killed  the  pig  if  he  had  had  a  proper 
weapon. 

Neither  Poacher  Quin  nor  Flanagan  took  any  part 
in  chasing  the  pig  and  the  clothes.  They  went  down 
to  the  landing  place  and  lifted  the  creels  off  the  don- 
key. Then  they  looked  gravely  and  anxiously  at  the 
bay.  The  wind  had  followed  the  thunderstorm  and 
was  blowing  strongly  from  the  east,  right  into  the 
mouth  of  the  bay.  The  tide  «was  flowing,  and  there 
was  rough  water  in  the  race  off  the  north  point  of 
the  bay,  where  the  current  met  the  wind.  The  re- 
sult was  a  nasty  confused  sea  over  the  whole  surface 
of  the  bay,  and  the  wind  was  whipping  the  spindrift 
off  the  tops  of  the  waves.  It  was  plain  that  Quin 
and  Flanagan  did  not  like  the  look  of  it  at  all.  I 
quite  sympathised  with  them.  Launching  a  boat  of 
any  sort  off  rocks  into  that  kind  of  sea  is  an  awkward 


158    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

business,  and  it  is  very  difficult  to  get  a  curragh 
alongside  a  bigger  boat  under  such  conditions. 

Quin  and  Flanagan  must  have  been  very  anxious 
to  get  the  party  off  the  island  for  they  made  up  their 
minds  to  risk  the  voyage.  They  carried  the  largest 
of  the  curraghs  down  to  the  edge  of  the  water, 
watched  for  a  comparatively  calm  moment,  and 
launched  her.  Peter  Flanagan  jumped  on  board 
at  once,  seized  a  pair  of  oars  and  pulled  out  a  few 
yards  from  the  land.  There  he  was  safe  enough, 
for  the  curragh  rode  even  the  jagged  seas  easily,  and 
he  could  keep  her  head  to  wind  with  occasional 
dipping  of  the  oars. 

Poacher  Quin,  who  had  been  standing  knee  deep 
in  the  water,  waded  ashore.  He  hoisted  one  of  the 
donkey's  creels  on  his  shoulders  and  then  walked  into 
the  sea  again.  The  waves  washed  round  his  ankles 
sometimes,  sometimes  flowed  well  above  his  knees. 
Peter  Flanagan  -watched  his  opportunity.  When  a 
big  wave  came  he  backed  in  on  the  crest  of  it, 
gripping  the  water  firmly  with  his  oars  and  bring- 
ing the  curragh  to  rest  for  a  moment  beside  Poacher 
Quin.  The  wave  rushed  on,  wetting  Quin  to  the 
waist,  but  he  stood  firm,  tipped  the  heavy  creel  from, 
his  shoulder,  and  laid  it  in  the  bottom  of  the  cur- 
ragh, letting  it  fall  as  lightly  as  if  it  weighed  no 
more  than  a  pound  or  two.  Peter  Flanagan  pulled 
a  strong  stroke  and  the  curragh  shot  out  again. 
The  business  was  repeated  with  the  second  creel, 
which  seemed  to  be  even  heavier  than  the  first. 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    159 

Then  Patterson  and  Tommy  came  to  the  landing- 
place,  carrying  Molly's  trunk  between  them.  Poacher 
Quin  took  it  on  his  shoulder,  waded  out,  and  laid  it 
safely  in  the  curragh.  He  went  on  shore  again. 
Floyd  was  sitting  on  a  rock,  nursing  his  precious 
parcel.  Molly  came  running  down.  She  had  at 
the  last  moment  discovered  a  pair  of  stockings 
jammed  by  the  wind  into  a  hole  in  one  of  the  stone 
walls,  and  had  turned  back  to  get  them.  She  was 
now  quite  ready  to  embark.  Quin  looked  round  the 
party.  It  was  plain  that  he  could  not  take  them  all 
without  overloading  the  curragh.  He  chose  Tommy. 
I  suppose  he  regarded  him  as  likely  to  be  more  use- 
ful than  any  of  the  others  in  transhipping  the  lug- 
gage to  the  "Aurora." 

He  and  Tommy  waded  into  the  sea.  Peter  Flan- 
agan backed  in  for  them  on  the  crest  of  a  wave,  and 
they  scrambled  on  board.  Poacher  Quin  got  out  two 
more  oars  and  the  curragh  was  pulled  out  towards 
the  yachts.  She  went  to  the  "Seven  Daughters" 
first,  and  one  of  the  creels  was  put  on  board  of  her. 
It  was  a  difficult  business.  Tommy  leaped  on  board 
the  boat,  gripping  the  shrouds  and  making  a  spring 
for  it,  as  the  curragh  swept  past  stern  first.  Then 
Poacher  Quin  took  in  his  oars  and  left  the  manage- 
ment of  the  curragh  to  his  cousin.  He  pulled  to 
windward  until  he  lay  dead  ahead  of  the  yacht  and 
then  let  the  curragh  drift  astern.  Constable  Moran, 
standing  on  the  bow  of  the  "Seven  Daughters," 
flung  a  rope  to  Quin,  who  made  it  fast  to  the  handles 


160    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

of  the  creel.  Then  with  a  sheer  lift,  Moran  and 
Tommy  got  the  creel  on  board,  and  the  curragh 
went  past. 

We  repeated  the  business  on  the  "Aurora," 
Tommy  coming  on  board  to  help  me.  We  managed 
Molly's  trunk  without  difficulty,  but  we  very  nearly 
got  into  trouble  with  the  creel.  It  was  much  heavier 
than  I  expected,  and  I  am  not,  I  suppose,  as  strong 
in  the  arms  as  Constable  Moran.  The  lift  was  too 
much  for  us,  though  Tommy  did  his  best.  We  got 
the  creel  clear  of  the  curragh,  but  the  "Aurora"  gave 
a  heavy  lurch  at  the  critical  moment,  r.nd  the  creel 
went  deep  into  the  water,  very  nearly  dragging 
Tommy  overboard.  It  was  impossible  for  us  to  get 
it  out  of  the  water  with  a  straight  pull.  I  held  on  to 
it  to  keep  it  from  sinking  altogether,  .while  Tommy 
bent  the  jib  halyard  on  to  the  rope  to  which  I  clung. 
Then  we  hoisted  it  on  board.  The  water  ran  in 
streams  out  of  it,  and  some  seaweed  straggled 
through  the  openings  of  the  basket  work. 

"What's  in  it?"  I  asked.  "If  it's  anything  that's 
likely  to  be  spoiled  by  wetting  it's  done  for  now." 

"Oh,  it's  all  right!"  said  Tommy.  "It's  nothing 
but  fish,  fish  and  lobsters  for  Mrs.  Maher." 

I  understood  better  than  I  used  to  the  value  of 
these  creels  of  fish  and  lobsters  which  are  sent  to 
Mrs.  Maher  from  Inisheeny.  A  dip  into  salt  wa- 
ter does  such  goods  no  harm.  The  worst  that  could 
happen  to  well  corked  bottles  would  be  the  wash- 
ing of!  of  their  labels,  and  I  do  not  suppose  that  the 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    i6r 

Flanagans  put  labels  on  the  bottles  they  use.  Theirs 
is  not  a  brand  which  depends  for  its  value  on  a  widely 
advertised  name. 

"I  suppose  the  other  creel  is  full  of  fish,  too,"  I 
said.  "But  why  did  they  put  it  into  Patterson's 
boat?" 

"Oh,  that's  a  present  for  Patterson,"  said  Tommy. 
"Peter  Flanagan  gave  it  to  him.  Lobsters,  you 
know,  and  fish." 

If  that  creel  were  really  a  present  for  Patterson,  it 
probably  did  contain  lobsters  and  fish  and  nothing 
else.  But  it  surprised  me  very  much  that  Peter 
Flanagan  should  have  given  a  present  to  Patterson. 
That  was  the  very  last  result  I  should  have  expected 
from  his  visit  to  the  island.  He  had  landed  with  the 
full  intention  of  discovering  the  workings  of  a  plot. 
He  certainly  meant  to  arrest  a  few  Flanagans  and 
carry  them  off.  It  was  most  amazing  that  he  should 
be  returning,  laden  with  freewill  offerings  from  the 
grateful  islanders.  I  knew  perfectly  well  that  neither 
Peter  Flanagan  nor  anyone  else  could  bribe  Patter- 
son. He  was  quite  incorruptible.  I  began  to  wish 
that  I  had  gone  ashore  myself.  I  should  have  liked 
very  much  to  have  seen  what  happened  on  the 
island. 

"I  don't  think  Patterson  expected  them  to  give 
him  presents,"  said  Tommy.  "I  know  I  didn't.  I 
rather  thought  they'd  all  turn  out  and  throw  stones 
at  us  as  soon  as  they  saw  Patterson.  You  told  us  we 
might  get  into  a  row ;  but  there  wasn't  the  beginning 


162  f  ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

of  a  sign  of  anybody  being  in  a  bad  temper.  Lambs 
.and  doves,  that's  what  they  were." 

"Perhaps  they  didn't  know  who  Patterson  was," 
I  said. 

That  was  not  a  very  plausible  explanation  of  what 
had  happened,  but  it  was  the  only  one  which  occurred 
to  me. 

"Oh,  they  knew  him  all  right!"  said  Tommy. 
"They  came  out  in  a  procession  to  meet  him.  The 
head  of  the  deputation  was  Peter  Flanagan,  and  he 
made  a  long  speech,  as  good  a  speech  as  any  fellow 
ever  made,  with  words  in  it  you'd  hardly  think  ever 
got  outside  a  dictionary.  I  had  an  idea  that  Patter- 
son intended  to  be  nasty,  but  he  couldn't,  simply 
couldn't,  after  listening  to  that  speech.  Nobody 
could.  There  was  a  lot  in  it  about  the  police  always 
being  welcome  to  the  island,  and  how  nobody  would 
be  more  pleased  than  Peter  himself,  if  Patterson 
went  and  lived  there  altogether.  I  can't  give  you 
the  exact  words,  but  that  was  the  kind  of  thing,  and 
there  was  a  lot  more  of  it." 

"I  don't  suppose  Patterson  believed  all  that,"  I 
said. 

"Not  at  first,"  said  Tommy.  "He  looked  nastier 
than  ever  at  first,  as  nasty  as  a  man  can  look  in 
striped  pyjamas.  But  afterwards — I'm  not  sure  that 
he  ever  really  believed  it ;  but  when  Peter  Flanagan 
and  the  rest  of  them  brought  out  the  fish  and  the 
lobsters  and  kind  of  offered  them  up  like  a  sacrifice 
— Patterson  couldn't  do  anything,  could  he?  There 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 


must  have  been  two  dozen  lobsters  at  least,  and  any 
amount  of  fish,  and  all  the  Flanagans  were  —  not  ex- 
actly down  on  their  knees,  but  kind  of  praying  him 
to  accept  the  offering,  as  if  he'd  been  some  kind  of 
god.  What  could  he  do?" 

"He  couldn't  very  well  arrest  them  or  search  their 
houses  after  he'd  taken  the  fish." 

"Exactly;  and  they  jolly  well  knew  that.  Then 
Molly  came  out  of  Peter  Flanagan's  house.  She  had 
Peter's  baby  in  her  arms,  and  was  looking  uncom- 
monly pretty." 

"At  your  age,  Tommy,"  I  said,  "you  oughtn't  to 
know  whether  a  girl  is  pretty  or  not." 

"I'm  getting  on  for  seventeen,"  said  Tommy,  "and 
I  can't  help  knowing  when  a  girl  is  pretty.  Though, 
of  course,  I  don't  care.  But  Patterson  knew  and 
cared.  You  may  bet  on  that.  The  very  moment 
he  saw  Molly  he  stopped  looking  nasty.  And  when 
she  said  that  Peter's  baby  is  a  darling,  he  agreed 
with  her,  though  he  can't  possibly  have  thought  so. 
Then  she  —  the  next  thing  that  happened  was  rather 
disgusting,  Uncle  Terence.  Perhaps  I'd  better  not 
tell  you." 

"Go  on,"  I  said.    "I'm  old  and  hardened." 

"Well,  she  —  she  made  him  kiss  it,  pushing  it  at 
him,  you  know.  And  he  did.  I  felt  a  bit  sick  my- 
self. The  baby  was  such  a  horrid  little  beast.  Then 
she  said  all  the  Flanagans  were  darlings,  and  of 
course  Patterson  agreed  to  that  too  —  had  to,  with 
her  looking  at  him  the  way  she  was.  Molly's  all 


i64    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

right,  of  course,  and  a  good  sort  in  every  way ;  but 
I'm  glad  she  doesn't  look  at  me  like  that." 

"Did  she  make  him  kiss  the  grown-up  Flana- 
gans?" 

"Not  exactly;  but  he  shook  hands  with  two  or 
three  of  them.  Then  we  had  more  speeches,  and 
Peter  Flanagan  made  some  sort  of  presentation  to 
Dr.  Floyd,  which  quite  reminded  me  of  the  week 
when  the  fellow  who  had  been  hunger-striking  got 
out,  and  everybody  lined  up  to  meet  the  train  and 
gave  him  £5  33.  6d.,  and  an  illuminated  address. 
Old  Floyd  seemed  frightfully  pleased  and  made  a 
long  speech  about  some  left-handed  fellow  who  jolly 
nearly  got  burnt  alive  in  a  church.  I  couldn't  see 
what  that  had  to  do  with  us,  but  the  Flanagans  all 
cheered,  so,  of  course,  I  joined  in.  After  that  we 
trotted  off  and  got  caught  in  the  thunderstorm." 

There  were  a  number  of  questions  which  I  wanted 
to  ask  Tommy.  I  had  the  main  outlines  of  the  story, 
and  thought  I  understood  pretty  well  what  had 
happened ;  but  there  were  a  great  many  details  that  I 
should  have  liked  to  know.  I  had  no  time  for  more 
talk  just  then.  The  curragh,  with  the  whole  party  on 
board,  was  plunging  out  towards  us,  making  very 
heavy  weather  of  it.  The  embarkation,  a  damp  and 
strenuous  business,  had  been  going  on  while  Tommy 
told  his  story.  • 

The  curragh  went  to  the  "Seven  Daughters"  first, 
and  put  Patterson  on  board.  Then  she  came  on  to 
the  "Aurora."  She  reached  us  in  the  middle  of  a 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT     165 

particularly  vicious  squall,  and  we  had  a  troublesome 
job  with  Floyd.  Peter  Flanagan  allowed  the  curragh 
to.  drift  past  us,  stern  first,  and  Floyd's  proper  plan 
was  to  wait  till  she  rose  on  top  of  a  wave,  and  then 
make  a  jump  for  the  "Aurora,"  grasping  the  shrouds 
or  the  runner.  But  he  would  not  part  with  King 
Cormac's  sword  for  a  single  instant,  insisting  on 
holding  it  and  the  chalice  against  his  chest  with  both 
hands.  He  is  not  an  active  man,  and  he  is  un- 
steady on  his  legs  in  a  boat.  Tommy  and  I  stood 
by  to  catch  him  and  pull  him  on  board;  but  we 
missed  him  the  first  time,  because  he  sat  down 
abruptly  on  Ouin's  knee  just  when  he  ought  to  have 
been  standing  up.  The  second  time  he  went  past 
we  gripped  him  by  the  elbows  and  dragged  him  on 
board.  I  pushed  him  into  the  cabin  to  get  him  out 
of  the  way;  though  there  was  not  much  room  for 
him  there  along  with  the  dripping  creel,  the  trunk, 
and  the  remains  of  the  packing  case. 

Molly  jumped  on  board  actively  enough,  and 
clung  to  the  shrouds  while  the  "Aurora"  rolled  and 
dipped  her  gunwale  under.  Poacher  Quin  followed 
her,  and  told  me  that  he  wanted  a  passage  back 
to  Carrigahooly.  I  was  very  glad  to  have  him.  The 
wind  had  been  shifting  round  to  the  north,  and  I 
thought  it  was  going  to  blow  harder.  Tommy  knows 
what  he  is  doing  in  a  boat,  and  I  could  have  man- 
aged all  right  without  Poacher  Quin  if  everything 
went  well  and  nothing  carried  away.  But  I  was 
not  very  confident  about  my  jib  sheets,  and  there 


166    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

were  other  ropes — the  "Aurora"  is  an  old  boat,  and 
I  cannot  afford  much  new  gear.  If  anything  was 
carried  away  it  would  be  a  great  advantage  to  have 
Poacher  Quin  on  board. 

We  tied  down  two  reefs  and  got  out  the  number 
two  jib,  on  which  Patterson  had  dried  himself  after 
his  swim.  I  should  have  preferred  three  reefs  and 
the  storm  jib.  But  Tommy  was  full  of  the  idea  of 
racing  Patterson  home  and  wanted  to  carry  all  pos- 
sible sail.  I  had  not  the  heart  to  disappoint  him, 
and — I  ought  to  have  more  sense  at  my  age,  but  I 
like  a  good  sail  myself.  We  should  be  close  hauled 
on  the  port  tack  the  -whole  way  if  the  wind  stayed 
where  it  was.  But  I  load  a  feeling  that  it  would 
back  further  to  the  north,  and  if  it  did  we  should 
race  home  with  free  sheets.  The  "Aurora"  is  a 
stiff  boat,  not  likely  to  bury  herself  under  a  double 
reefed  mainsail  in  anything  less  than  a  gale. 

Patterson  got  under  way  first,  much  to  the  an- 
noyance of  Tommy.  But  we  were  not  far  behind 
him,  and  I  felt  fairly  confident  that  we  should  pass 
him  before  we  were  a  mile  from  the  island.  The 
"Aurora"  is  sluggish  in  a  light  wind,  but  she  can 
leave  the  "Seven  Daughters"  behind  her  in  a  breeze, 
especially  if  there  is  any  sea  running. 

Molly  sat  beside  me  in  the  cockpit  and  showed 
no  signs  of  being  sea-sick.  She  gave  little  cries  of 
excitement  and  delight  when  the  "Aurora"  dipped 
her  gunwale  under  and  green  water  came  racing  past 
the  coaming.  What  happened  to  Floyd,  in  the  cabin, 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT     167 

I  do  not  know.  He  must  have  been  exceedingly 
uncomfortable,  but  he  was  not,  I  think,  sea-sick 
or  even  squeamish.  They  say  that  no  one  ever  is 
sea-sick  if  he  is  frightened  or  greatly  excited.  Floyd 
was  not  frightened,  but  he  was  completely  absorbed 
in  gloating  over  the  chalice  and  the  sword.  I  dare- 
say that  saved  him. 


CHAPTER  XII 

I  STEERED  until  we  were  almost  abreast  of 
Patterson,  a  little  to  windward  of  him.  Then 
I  called  Tommy  aft  and  gave  him  the  tiller.  I 
knew  he  would  enjoy  the  excitement  of  passing  the 
other  boat,  especially  if  Patterson,  who  has  done 
some  racing  in  his  day,  tried  a  luffing  match.  Be- 
sides I  wanted  to  talk  to  Poacher  Quin.  There  were 
a  good  many  things  I  was  anxious  to  find  out  about 
the  events  of  the  morning  on  the  island. 

The  wind,  as  I  expected,  worked  round  to  the 
north.  The  "Aurora"  reached  along,  and  no  longer 
dipped  her  nose  into  the  seas.  I  was  able  to  keep 
fairly  dry  on  the  lee  side  of  the  mast  with  my  feet 
braced  against  the  gunwale.  Poacher  Quin  crouched 
on  the  deck  beside  me. 

"Now,  Quin,"  I  said,  "I  want  the  whole  story  out 
of  you.  How  did  you  and  the  Flanagans  manage  to 
get  Mr.  Patterson  off  the  island  without  a  row  ?" 

Quin  drew  his  pipe  from  his  pocket  and  peered 
carefully  into  the  bowl.  He  satisfied  himself  that 
there  was  a  small  nugget  of  tobacco  there.  He 
fished  out  a  match,  struck  it  on  the  seat  of  his 
trousers,  and  held  it  in  the  hollow  of  a  curved  hand 
over  the  bowl  of  his  pipe.  I  admired  the  way  he 
lit  the  damp  tobacco  in  a  strong  breeze  with  spray 

168 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    169 

flying.  I  can  light  a  pipe  myself  in  a  boat ;  but  I  have 
to  take  two  hands  to  it,  and  I  have  never  been  able 
to  strike  a  match  successfully  by  rubbing  it  against 
wet  trousers.  Only  men  like  Poacher  Quin,  who 
have  been  in  and  out  of  boats  all  their  lives,  can 
do  that.  He  took  three  or  four  puffs  of  smoke. 
Then  he  put  his  pipe  away  and  began  to  talk. 

'The  way  of  it  was  this,"  he  said.  "As  soon  as 
we  seen  the  'Seven  Daughters'  coming  into  the  bay 
with  the  police  on  board,  we  knew  there  might  be 
trouble,  for  Mr.  Patterson  is  a  mighty  determined 
man.  From  what  your  Reverence  was  telling  me 
last  night  he  had  a  wrong  notion  entirely,  for  there 
was  no  cannons  nor  rifles,  nor  any  of  them  sort  of 
things  on  the  island.  And  what's  more  they  weren't 
wanted.  There  isn't  a  man  on  Inisheeny  cares  a 
thrawneen  if  there  never  was  a  gun  in  the  whole  of 
Ireland.  They  have  more  sense  than  to  be  run- 
ning after  the  like.  You  may  say  what  you  like  of 
the  Flanagans,  but  they  have  some  sense.  Only  it 
didn't  suit  them  to  have  Mr.  Patterson  searching 
high  and  low,  and  in  and  out  for  what  wasn't  there." 

"He  might,"  I  said,  "have  found  what  was 
there." 

"He  would,"  said  Poacher  Quin,  "and  that 
Wouldn't  have  suited  either.  Well,  the  first  notion 
was  that  if  there  wasn't  anyone  to  put  him  ashore 
in  a  curragh,  he  wouldn't  be1  able  to  get  ashore. 
So  they  went  off,  every  man  and  woman  and  child 
to  the  far  side  of  the  island,  and  me  along  with 


1 70    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

them.  Though  I  knew  rightly  that  notion  would  be 
no  good.  Patterson  is  that  kind  of  a  man,  that  if 
he  couldn't  do  what  he  wanted  one  way,  he'd  do 
it  another/' 

"I  suppose  you  forgot  all  about  Miss  Floyd,"  I 
said,  "or  did  you  mean  to  keep  her  there  perma- 
nently?" 

''What  we  meant,"  said  Quin,  "was  to  let  her 
stay  where  she  was  till  the  police  went  away.  What 
harm  would  that  do  her?" 

"None.  But  you  might  have  had  to  keep  her  there 
a  long  time.  Patterson  wasn't  going  to  up  anchor 
and  sail  home  just  because  you  wouldn't  put  off  a 
boat  for  him." 

"I  knew  that  well,"  said  Quin,  "and  it  wasn't 
long  before  I  seen  I  was  right.  Master  Tommy 
is  a  good  swimmer,  so  he  is,  and  when  I  seen  him 
heading  to  the  shore  I  knew  the  way  it  would  be — 
how  he'd  take  a  curragh  and  land  Mr.  Patterson. 
And  that's  what  happened.  There  was  a  lot  of  talk 
then  about  what  it  would  be  best  to  do.  Some  of  the 
boys  was  all  for  throwing  Mr.  Patterson  into  the 
sea  and  leaving  him  there  to  drown  the  best  way 
he  could.  And  I  think  maybe  that  that's  what  would 
have  been  done,  only  nobody  wanted  to  bring 
trouble  on  your  Reverence,  and  maybe  have  you 
arrested  for  being  a  Sinn  Feiner." 

"They'd  hardly  have  done  that,"  I  said,  "what- 
ever happened  to  Mr.  Patterson." 

"They  might  have  took  you,"  said  Quin.  "They're 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT     171 

wild  about  Sinn  Fein  now.  I  declare  to  God  a  man 
can't  give  a  lick  of  a  stick  to  an  ass,  but  they'd  make 
out  he  was  after  an  Irish  Republic.  I  -wouldn't  won- 
der a  bit  but  they'd  have  arrested  you  if  Patterson 
was  drowned." 

"Anyhow,"  I  said,  "I'm  glad  you  let  him  off.  You 
may  not  like  him,  but  he's  rather  a  friend  of  mine."1 

"The  next  notion,"  said  Quin,  "was  to  hide  the 
stuff  whatever  it  might  be." 

He  looked  at  me  questioningly.  I  tried  to  en- 
courage him  to  go  on. 

"Exactly,"  I  said,  "any  stuff  that  Patterson  might 
dislike  the  look  of.  Where  did  you  mean  to  hide  it  ?" 

"On  the  small  little  island  on  the  bog  behind  Peter 
Flanagan's  house." 

"No  good  doing  that/'  I  said.  "Dr.  Floyd  knew 
the  way  there." 

"I  knew  that,"  said  Quin,  "and  I  said  plain  and 
straight  that  it  was  no  use  putting  the  stuff  there. 
So  that  notion  was  dropped  and  devil  a  one  knew 
what  was  best  to  be  done.  Well,  I  told  them  I  didn't 
like  Patterson,  no  more  than  anyone  else  did.  And 
I  had  more  reason  not  to  like  him,  for  I  knew  him 
well.  'But/  said  I,  'Patterson's  a  gentleman,  so  he 


is.'  " 


Considering  the  way  Poacher  Quin  has  been  perse- 
cuted by  the  police,  that  was  a  handsome  and  gen- 
erous thing  to  say.  It  was  more  than  I  ever  heard 
Patterson  say  of  him.  Quin  would  not,  indeed,  wish 
to  be  called  a  gentleman.  He  and  his  cousins  on 


172    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

Inisheeny  are  probably  the  only  males  left  on  these 
islands  who  do  not  claim  the  title.  But  I  knew  he 
hated  being  taken  for  a  Sinn  Feiner,  and  Patter- 
son always  called  him  that. 

Tommy  must  have  been  inattentive  to  his  steer- 
ing. He  let  the  "Aurora"  fly  up  into  the  wind  during 
a  particularly  strong  gust.  The  jib  flapped  violently, 
and  the  sheets  lashed  Quin's  side  like  whips.  A 
wave  lopped  over  the  bow  and  wetted  both  him  and 
me.  It  was  a  minute  or  two  before  he  could  get 
on  with  his  story. 

'The  nature  of  a  gentleman  is  this,"  he  said. 
"You'll  understand  now,  your  Reverence,  that  this 
is  what  I  told  the  boys  on  the  island.  Tm  knowing 
gentlemen  all  my  life/  says  I,  'and  more's  the  pity 
that  there's  so  few  of  them  left  in  the  country  now. 
For  the  nature  of  them  is  this,  that  if  you  treat 
them  decent  they'll  treat  you  the  same/  Well,  my 
Cousin  Peter  is  a  sensible  man,  and,  says  he,  Tm 
willing  to  let  the  old  gentleman  take  what  I  found 
in  the  bog.  The  sword,  if  so  be  it  is  a  sword,  and 
the  old  cup  with  a  hole  in  it.  Is  that  treating  him 
decent,  or  is  it  not?'  'You'll  do  that,  Peter/  says  I, 
'but  you'll  do  more/  'What  more?'  says  he.  'This 
more/  says  I.  'You'll  give  the  half  of  the  fish  you 
caught  last  night  to  Mr.  Patterson  and  a  dozen,  or 
maybe  two  dozen,  lobsters  along  with  it/  ' 

If  Tommy  had  been  the  least  bit  older  than  he  is, 
I  should  have  suspected  him  of  paying  too  much 
attention  to  Molly.  He  was  certainly  paying  too 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT     173 

little  to  his  steering.  The  "Aurora"  flew  up  into 
the  wind  again.  This  time  Poacher  Quin  remon- 
strated. 

"Will  you  give  her  a  little  sheet  when  you  see 
the  squall  coming,  Master  Tommy?"  he  said.  "Keep 
the  sheet  in  your  hand  now,  and  ease  it  when  you  feel 
her  going  against  the  helm.  Have  you  the  lee  run- 
ner slacked  away?  You  have  not.  Well,  you  ought 
to  have." 

He  scrambled  aft  and  slacked  away  the  runner. 
Then  he  came  back  to  me,  and  I  started  him  off  again 
at  his  story. 

"I  suppose  Peter  didn't  want  to  part  with  all  that 
fish,"  I  said. 

"He  was  willing  enough  to  give  the  fish  and  the 
lobsters  and  more  along  with  them  if  he  thought  it 
would  be  any  use.  But  he  -wasn't  sure  would  Patter- 
son take  them.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  wasn't  sure 
myself.  He's  a  hard  man,  is  Patterson,  and  the 
worst  of  the  gentry  is  that  you  never  know  what 
they  will  take  from  you  or  what  they  won't.  I've 
seen  the  time  when  a  magistrate — I'm  talking  now 
of  the  old  days  when  the  magistrates  was  gentlemen 
— I've  seen  the  time  his  lordship  himself  would  take 
a  pair  of  ducks  from  me,  or  any  other  man,  and  he 
smiling,  pleased,  so  as  he'd  give  you  an  old  suit  of 
clothes,  or  a  pair  of  boots  that  would  be  worth  twice 
as  much  as  the  ducks.  And  I've  seen  the  same  gentle- 
man another  day,  and  if  you  offered  him  as  much  as 


174    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

a  dozen  fresh  eggs :  'Is  it  trying  to  bribe  me  you  are, 
you  scoundrel  ?'  would  be  what  he'd  say." 

"Patterson  might  have  thought  you  were  trying 
to  bribe  him,"  I  said. 

"That's  what  had  me  afraid,"  said  Quin,  "so  I 
said  to  Peter :  'It  must  be  done  proper  if  it's  done 
at  all.'  And  I  told  him  about  the  time  the  Lord 
Lieutenant  came  to  Carrigahooly,  and  the  way  the 
gentry — and  there  was  gentry  in  it  them  times — 
went  to  him  with  their  hats  in  their  hands  and  told 
him  he  was  the  finest  man  ever  was  seen,  and  they'd 
give  him  the  coats  off  their  backs,  and  more  to 
that." 

I  remembered  the  incident;  though  it  is  twenty 
years  now  since  Carrigahooly  received  a  Lord  Lieu- 
tenant. Quin  had  not  got  the  wording  of  our  ad- 
dress of  welcome  perfectly  right,  but  he  had  caught 
the  spirit  of  it.  He  went  on : 

"  That's  what  we'll  have  to  do/  I  said  to  Peter, 
'and  it'll  not  be  me  and  you,  but  every  man  in  the 
island  that'll  have  to  do  it.'  Well,  your  Reverence, 
it  was  that  we  did,  and  I'll  say  this  for  Peter,  it  was 
well  done.  The  Lord  Lieutenant  himself  would  have 
been  pleased  with  the  speech  that  was  made.  I  de- 
clare to  God,  when  I  was  listening  to  it,  I'd  have 
thought  Peter  was  pleased  to  see  Patterson." 

"It  seems  to  have  worked  all  right,"  I  said. 
"Patterson  evidently  believed  every  word  that  was 
said." 

"I'm  not  sure  he  did,"  said  Quin.    "My  own  no- 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    175 

tion  is  that  it  was  the  young  lady  that  pacified  him 
in  the  latter  end.  She  came  out  of  the  house  where 
she'd  been  drinking  tea  along  with  Peter's  wife, 
and  she  ran  up  to  Patterson,  and  'Isn't  he  a  darling  ?' 
said  she,  meaning  my  cousin  Peter." 

"Are  you  sure  of  that?"  I  asked.  "My  nephew 
was  telling  me  the  story  just  now,  and  he  said  she 
meant  Peter's  baby." 

" Whether  it  was  Peter  himself  or  the  baby,"  said 
Quin,  "makes  no  differ.  Patterson  couldn't  contra- 
dict her,  her  being  the  fine  young  lady  she  is.  No 
man  would  like  to  contradict  a  young  lady  like  her. 
When  she  said  Peter  was  a  darling — and  it's  my  be- 
lief it  was  Peter  she  meant — there  wasn't  anything 
Patterson  could  do  only  take  the  fish  that  was  of- 
fered him.  There  was  no  trouble  in  the  world  with 
him  after  that,  for  he  was  thinking  more  about  the 
young  lady  than  he  was  about  us.  So  I  packed  up  the 
fish  and  the  lobsters  into  one  of  the  creels  belonging 
to  Peter's  ass,  and  away  with  the  whole  of  us  so 
that  he  wouldn't  have  time  to  change  his  mind.  Not 
that  he  was  wanting  to  change  his  mind.  Why 
would  he,  when  he  had  a  young  lady  like  her  talking 
and  laughing  to  him?" 

"Well,"  I  said,  "Patterson  will  have  enough  fish 
and  lobsters  to  last  him  some  time,  any  way.  And 
so  will  Mrs.  Maher.  It's  fish  and  lobsters  you  have 
in  her  creel  too,  I  suppose,  the  one  you  put  on  board 
this  boat?" 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

"There's  fish  in  it,"  said  Quin,  slowly,  "and  there's 
lobsters  in  it." 

He  left  me  to  suppose  as  indeed  I  did  suppose,  that 
there  was  something  else  besides  fish  and  lobsters. 
But  that  was  no  affair  of  mine,  and  I  had,  I  fear,  a 
good  deal  of  sympathy  with  the  Flanagans,  with 
Mrs.  Maher,  and  with  her  customers.  I  am  a  loyal 
and  law-abiding  man.  I  pay  my  income  tax  without 
making  an  attempt  to  defraud  the  revenue.  But  I 
do  not  think  that  any  Government  ought  to  tax 
whisky  to  such  an  extent  that  it  costs  two  shillings 
a  glass. 

In  spite  of  Tommy's  erratic  steering  we  made  a 
fast  passage  to  Carrigahooly,  and  it  was  still  early 
in  the  afternoon  when  we  landed.  I  left  Poacher 
Quin  to  make  up  the  sail  and  to  deal  with  Mrs. 
Maher's  hamper  of  fish.  I  wanted  to  have  as  little 
as  possible  to  do  with  that.  The  Floyds  went 
straight  to  the  hotel  to  get  dry  if  they  could.  Tommy 
went  with  them  to  help  to  carry  their  luggage.  I 
went  up  to  the  rectory.  My  plan  was  to  have  a  fire 
lit  in  my  study,  to  have  a  large  and  satisfying  meal, 
and  then  to  read  the  newspapers  until  I  went  to 
sleep.  I  had  two  days'  newspapers  to  read.  I  had 
been  through  a  good  deal  of  physical  exertion,  and 
I  felt  that  I  was  entitled  to  a  quiet  hour  or  two. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

I  HAVE  sometimes  envied  those,  the  richer 
among  my  friends,  whose  households  are  well 
organised  and  properly  staffed.  It  is  pleasant 
to  find  the  newspapers  laid  out  in  orderly  rows  on  a 
table  devoted  to  them ;  to  feel  sure  that  the  ink  bot- 
tle on  the  writing  table  will  be  full  of  clean  ink; 
to  know  that  the  paper  cutter — an  instrument  nat- 
urally inclined  to  wandering  about — is  sure  to  be  in 
its  fixed  place.  I  like  to  have  my  clothes  laid  out  for 
me,  all  neatly  folded  and  well  brushed,  the  clothes 
•suitable  for  the  day,  the  hour,  or  the  coming  oc- 
cupation; to  find  a  clean  collar  ready  to  hand  just 
when  a  clean  collar  is  required,  and  to  see  boots 
equipped  with  trees  standing  in  rows,  dusted  and 
shining.  Pleasantest  of  all  are  the  well-ordered 
meals,  the  table  decked  with  bright  silver  and  clear 
glass,  the  regular  sequence  of  plates  of  various  sizes 
and  shapes,  the  food  tastefully  arranged  on  dishes, 
and  decked,  when  decoration  is  possible.  In  church 
I  am  content,  as  indeed  a  priest  of  the  Church  of 
Ireland  must  be  with  decency.  I  long  ago  smothered 
my  natural  craving  for  ornamental  and  ceremonial. 
But  in  my  own  house  I  would  be  a  ritualist  if  I 
could,  for  I  enjoy  ceremony  in  the  affairs  of  daily 
life.  But  domestic  ritualism  is  only  possible  for  the 

177 


178    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

rich.  To  live  as  I  should  like  to  live,  a  staff  of  well 
trained  servants  is  required,  acolytes,  thurifers,  cruci- 
fers,  men  and  women  who  understand  and  love  the 
business.  Such  ministers  demand,  and  very  rightly 
command,  high  wages.  I  am  a  poor  man  and  must 
be  content  with  less  than  I  should  like.  I  am  also  a 
lazy  man,  and  I  am  not  sure  that  I  should  take  the 
trouble  to  live  the  kind  of  life  I  think  I  want  to  live, 
even  if  it  were  within  my  power.  Ritualism  in 
church  or  military  barracks,  where  indeed  ritualism 
is  more  cultivated  than  anywhere  else,  or  in  the 
home,  demands  unceasing  and  laborious  attention  to 
detail.  A  lazy  man,  a  lover  of  his  own  ease,  cannot 
be  a  ritualist,  any  more  than  a  lazy  woman  can  be 
well  dressed. 

I  am  sure,  too,  that  my  way  of  living  has  certain 
advantages.  I  reached  home  after  my  expedition  to 
Inisheeny,  at  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  I  wanted 
a  solid  meal.  In  a  well-ordered  house,  managed  by 
properly  trained  servants,  it  would  be  quite  im- 
possible to  get  such  a  meal  at  that  hour. 

Afternoon  tea  might  be  had,  under  protest,  an 
hour  before  its  proper  time.  But  afternoon  tea  was 
not  in  the  least  what  I  wanted.  For  luncheon  I 
was  plainly  two  hours  late,  and  for  dinner  at  least 
three  hours  too  early.  If  I  had  asked  a  well  bred, 
upper  class  parlourmaid  for  either  luncheon  or  din- 
ner I  should  have  been  firmly,  though  politely, 
snubbed. 

But  I  am  not  afflicted  with  good  servants.     My 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    179 

modest  rectory  is  managed  by  one  energetic  widow 
of  about  forty,  who  calls  herself  a  working  house- 
keeper and  keeps  a  child,  the  fruit  of  her  brief  mar- 
ried life,  somewhere  out  of  sight  in  the  back  part 
of  the  house.  I  should  have  no  objection  to  her 
calling  herself  a  lady  companion  and  keeping  three 
children  so  long  as  she  made  me  fairly  comfortable 
and  conformed  to  my  irregular  ways.  With  her  in 
my  kitchen  I  had  very  little  doubt  that  I  should  get 
exactly  the  meal  I  wanted,  and  that  it  would  be  ready 
for  me  as  soon  as  I  was  ready  for  it. 

I  did  get  exactly  what  I  wanted.  I  changed  my 
damp  clothes  and  washed  the  salt  off  my  face  and 
hands.  Then  I  found  waiting  for  me  two  large 
chops  and  a  dish  of  fried  potatoes.  Afterwards  I 
had  pancakes,  eight  or  ten  large  pancakes,  and  a 
pot  of  tea.  My  housekeeper  cannot  make  coffee,  and 
she  has  not  the  right  touch  for  souffles  and  omelettes, 
but  she  can  make  tea,  being  one  of  the  few  women 
in  the  world  who  knows  when  water  is  boiling,  and 
she  is  better  than  any  cook  I  know  at  pancakes.  It 
is  to  her  credit  that  I  did  not  even  have  to  tell  her 
to  light  a  fire  in  my  study.  She  is  a  west  of  Ireland 
woman,  and  knows  that  fires  are  desirable,  even 
early  in  the  afternoon,  in  July.  And  fuel  is  not  scarce 
in  Carrigahooly.  The  town  is  surrounded  with  ex- 
cellent bogs,  and  we  are  able  to  warm  ourselves 
without  wrangling  with  coal  controllers  or  parading 
in  shirts  with  ropes  round  our  necks  to  beg  mercy 
from  reigning  colliers. 


i8o    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

I  settled  down  in  my  armchair  at  about  half  past 
five  o'clock.  I  stretched  my  feet  out  to  a  pleasant 
blaze  on  a  hearth  piled  high  with  brown  turf.  I  had 
my  tobacco  and  three  pipes  beside  me.  My  mind 
was  quite  at  ease,  for  I  knew  that  when  Tommy  came 
home,  whatever  time  that  might  be,  he  also  would 
be  fed  on  chops  and  pancakes.  I  opened  the  news- 
papers that  lay  ready  for  me.  There  were  four  of 
them,  two  for  each  day  that  I  had  been  away  from 
home.  I  can  still  afford,  in  spite  of  the  rising  cost 
of  living,  to  take  in  plenty  of  newspapers,  and  I  hold 
it  to  be  the  duty  of  a  fair-minded  man  to  read  both 
sides  of  every  question,  even  of  the  Irish  question. 

I  waded  through  the  leading  articles  in  both  pa- 
pers, and  learned  from  one  that  Ireland  is  at  present 
a  maelstrom  of  crime,  in  which  helpless  citizens  are 
swept  round  and  round,  with  rapidly  increasing  ve- 
locity, towards  destruction.  The  other  paper  told  me 
that  Ireland  was  the  most  peaceful  and  crimeless 
country  in  Europe,  that  there  were  no  murderers 
and  robbers  among  us,  except  the  Lord  Lieutenant 
and  the  police,  aliens  whose  crimes  cannot  be  laid  to 
the  charge  of  Ireland. 

After  enjoying  the  leading  articles,  I  passed  on  to 
the  actual  news  of  the  day.  I  skimmed  a  few  as- 
sassinations and  a  couple  of  sieges  of  police  barracks, 
and  came  to  an  account  of  the  proceedings  of  the 
Sinn  Fein  Courts  of  Justice.  I  discovered,  with  a 
shock  of  surprise,  that  the  law  officers  of  the  Irish 
Republic  had  begun  to  punish  people  severely  for 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    181 

illicit  distilling  and  trafficking  in  poteen.  I  foresaw 
a  curious  and  interesting  situation  in  Inisheeny  when 
the  new  law  came  into  competition  with  the  old  law 
in  suppressing  the  Flanagans.  Patterson  and  his 
police  would  go  out  to  the  island  to  arrest  Peter  Flan- 
agan Tom.  The  armed  volunteers  of  the  Republic 
would  go  out  there  too,  in  another  boat,  for  the  same 
purpose.  But  Patterson  would  also  want  to  arrest 
the  volunteers,  and  the  volunteers,  being  at  war  with 
England,  would  want  to  shoot  Patterson.  The  Flan- 
agans would  try  to  drive  off  both  their  enemies.  I, 
if  I  found  a  safe  place,  would  be  able  to  watch  three 
small  armies  chasing  each  other  round  and  round  the 
island ;  settling  their  differences  in  the  end,  perhaps, 
by  a  triangular  duel  like  that  arranged  by  Mr.  Mid- 
shipman Easy. 

It  was  with  this  pleasant  thought  in  my  mind  that 
I  dropped  off  to  sleep. 

I  was  wakened  an  hour  later.  Tommy  passed  the 
window  of  my  study,  whistling  loudly.  His  tune  was 
"Danny  Boy"  again,  but  this  time  he  seemed  to  have 
got  nearer  the  real  spirit  of  it.  Instead  of  treating  it 
as  a  gay,  irresponsible,  comic  opera  tune,  and  im- 
parting a  cheerfulness  to  it,  which  it  certainly  does 
not  possess,  he  was  whistling  it  with  some  feeling  for 
its  proper  melancholy.  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
he  must  be  hungry.  This  pleased  me.  If  Tommy 
were  really  hungry  he  would  probably  not  disturb 
me  until  he  had  eaten,  and  I  might  look  forward  to 
another  half  hour,  perhaps  a  whole  hour,  of  peace.  I 


182    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

closed  my  eyes  again,  but  I  was  not  allowed  to  go  to 
sleep.  Tommy  walked  into  my  study. 

"I  say,  Uncle  Terence,"  he  said,  "they  want  you 
rather  badly  down  at  the  hotel.  I'm  sorry  for  you, 
for  you  look  jolly  comfortable  there,  and  I'm  sure 
you  will  hate  turning  out." 

Tommy  was  perfectly  right.  I  was  comfortable, 
and  I  did  hate  the  idea  of  turning  out.  I  hated  it  so 
much  that  I  did  not  intend  to  turn  out,  no  matter 
how  badly  I  was  wanted. 

"I  promised  to  bring  the  message  up  to  you,"  said 
Tommy,  "and  to  say  that  you  were  to  go  at  once." 

"I'm  not  going,"  I  said.  "I'm  not  going  either  at 
once  or  later  on.  I've  done  all  I  can  for  those  Floyds. 
Very  few  men  would  have  done  as  much.  If  Floyd 
has  lost  King  Cormac's  sword  he  must  find  it  again 
for  himself.  It's  no  use  his  sending  me  up  messages. 
I'm  not  going  near  him  again." 

"It's  not  Dr.  Floyd,"  said  Tommy.  "I  mean  he 
didn't  send  the  message." 

"I'm  not  going  to  stir  out  of  this  place  for  Molly 
either,"  I  said. 

"Molly's  all  right,"  said  Tommy ;  "and  so  is  Dr. 
Floyd,  as  far  as  I  know.  The  last  time  I  saw  him 
he  was  going  off  to  see  some  ruins,  after  groodging 
over  the  sword  for  nearly  an  hour.  It  wasn't  he  or 
Molly  that  sent  the  message." 

"Then  who  did?" 

"Mrs.  Maher,"  said  Tommy.  "She  and  Poacher 
Quin.  They  want  you  rather  badly." 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT     183 

This  surprised  me.  Mrs.  Maher  is  perfectly  well 
able  to  manage  her  own  affairs,  and  Poacher  Quin 
had  never  appealed  to  me  except  when  Patterson 
arrested  him.  I  thought  it  very  unlikely  that  Pat- 
terson had  done  such  a  thing  since  he  returned  from 
Inisheeny. 

"If  they  want  me,"  I  said,  "they'll  have  to  come 
up  here.  I'm  not  going  to  them.  What  on  earth  do 
they  want?" 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Tommy.  "They  didn't  tell 
me,  but  I'd  say  it  was  something  uncommonly  im- 
portant." 

I  thought  for  a  moment  that  perhaps  Patterson 
might  have  managed  to  sink  the  "Seven  Daughters" 
on  the  way  home.  But  I  did  not  see  that  Quin  would 
be  affected  by  it.  He  does  not  own  the  "Seven 
Daughters,"  and  I  do  not  think  he  would  break  his 
heart  if  Patterson  were  drowned.  Besides,  there 
would  be  no  point  in  sending  for  me  if  the  boat  were 
sunk.  I  should  be  no  kind  of  use  until  the  bodies 
were  recovered  and  the  time  came  for  burying  Pat- 
terson. 

"Did  Patterson  get  home  all  right?"  I  asked. 

"Oh,  yes !"  said  Tommy.  "I  saw  him  and  Moran 
going  up  the  street  together.  In  fact  it  seemed  to  me 
that  Mrs.  Maher  and  Quin  weren't  particular  glad  to 
see  him.  It  was  soon  after  they  came  that  they  got 
into  a  regular  fizz  and  sent  me  galloping  up  here  for 
you." 

Well,  if  they  had  reason  to  think  that  Patterson 


184   ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

had  found  out  what  was  happening  on  Ini sheeny  it 
would  account  for  their  being  in  a  regular  fizz.  Mrs. 
Maher  would  be  fined  a  ruinous  sum  if  she  were 
caught  buying  and  selling  illicit  whisky,  and  Poacher 
Quin  would  go  to  prison  for  years.  The  fear  of 
any  trouble  of  that  sort  made  me  more  determined 
not  to  mix  myself  up  in  the  matter.  A  clergyman 
can  do  almost  anything  in  Ireland,  but  he  has  to  be 
careful  about  defrauding  the  revenue.  The  officers 
of  Customs  and  Excise,  mostly  Englishmen,  have 
deplorably  little  respect  for  religion. 

"You'd  better  go  down  to  Mrs.  Maher/'  I  said, 
"and  tell  her  I'm  too  tired  to  stir." 

"All  right,"  said  Tommy.  "I'll  tell  her,  but  she'll 
be  frightfully  disappointed,  and  so  will  Quin." 

He  left  the  room,  and  a  few  minutes  later  passed 
the  window  again.  This  time  he  was  whistling,  not 
"Danny  Boy,"  but  a  cheery  Irish  reel  tune. 

I  did  not  go  to  sleep  again  when  Tommy  left  me. 
I  could  not  help  speculating  about  the  message  I  had 
received.  What  misfortune  had  fallen  on  Mrs. 
Maher  and  Quin  ?  Why  did  they  want  my  help  ?  I 
turned  and  twisted  all  sorts  of  possibilities  round  in 
my  mind,  and  failed  to  hit  on  anything  which  would 
account  for  their  urgent  message  to  me.  At  last  my 
curiosity  became  stronger  than  my  laziness.  I  left 
my  comfortable  chair  and  walked  down  to  the  vil- 
lage. 

I  found  Mrs.  Maher  and  Poacher  Quin  sitting  in 
the  little  office  behind  the  bar  of  the  hotel.  They 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    185 

both  looked  depressed  and  miserable.  Quin  had  a 
tumbler  of  porter  before  him,  but  he  seemed  to  have 
no  heart  to  enjoy  it.  Mrs.  Maher,  though  she  liked 
a  bottle  of  porter  well  enough,  was  not  even  pre- 
tending to  drink. 

''Well,"  I  said,  "here  I  am.  I've  come  to  you  in 
spite  of  saying  I  wouldn't.  You  got  the  message  I 
sent,  I  suppose?" 

"The  young  lad  is  after  telling  us,"  said  Quin, 
"that  your  Reverence  wouldn't  come.  And  small 
blame  to  you.  Why  would  you  be  going  to  jail  along 
with  the  rest  of  us?" 

"It's  no  use  you're  coming,  and  that's  a  fact," 
said  Mrs.  Maher.  "If  you'd  been  here  an  hour  ago 
something  might  have  been  done;  but,  sure,  it's  too 
late  now." 

"It'll  be  six  years  I'll  get  over  this  job,"  said 
Quin.  "Six  years  for  certain.  Maybe  more." 

"I  seen  in  the  papers  a  week  ago,"  said  Mrs. 
Maher,  "that  a  man  somewhere  down  in  Kerry  was 
fined  a  hundred  pounds  for  less  than  what  we've 
done;  and  how  could  I  pay  a  hundred  pounds,  or, 
for  the  matter  of  that,  a  hundred  shillings?" 

I  listened  to  these  lamentations,  and  it  seemed  to 
me  that  there  could  be  only  one  cause  for  them.  Pat- 
terson must  somehow  have  discovered  the  secret  of 
Mrs.  Maher's  trade  with  the  Inisheeny  islanders.  I 
sincerely  hoped  that  he  had  not  also  found  out  that 
my  "Aurora"  was  used  as  a  smugglers'  cargo  boat. 

"How  did  he  find  out?"  I  asked. 


i86    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

"I  don't  know  he  has  found  out  yet,"  said  Quin. 

"He  has.  He  has,"  wailed  Mrs.  Maher.  "Sure, 
how  could  he  not?" 

"In  the  latter  end  he  will,  of  course,"  said  Quin, 
"unless  something's  done  to  stop  him." 

Quin  looked  at  me  appealingly  as  he  spoke.  It  was 
evident  that  I  was  the  person  to  do  the  "something" 
which  might  possibly  save  the  situation.  But  I  did 
not  see  what  I  could  do. 

"Your  Reverence  was  always  a  good  friend  to 
the  poor,"  said  Mrs.  Maher;  "and  you'll  help  us  if 
there's  any  help  in  it." 

Mrs.  Maher  is  not  poor,  though  she  chooses  to 
say  she  is.  But  I  do  not  deny  that  I  am  one  of  her 
friends. 

"If  you'd  tell  me  exactly  what's  happened,"  I  said, 
"I  might  be  able  to  advise  you  what  to  do." 

"The  way  of  it  is  this,"  said  Quin.  "There  was 
a  bit  of  an  accident." 

"Accident!"  said  Mrs.  Maher.  "A  nice  sort  of 
an  accident!" 

"It  was  nobody's  fault,  anyhow,"  said  Quin. 

"It  was  your  fault,"  said  Mrs.  Maher,  "and  well 
you  know  it." 

"If  it  was  anybody's  fault,"  said  Quin,  "it  was 
Peter  Flanagan's;  for  I  said  to  him  twice — no,  but 
I  said  to  him  four  times — 'Are  you  sure,  now,  Peter/ 
says  I,  'that  it's  the  creel  for  Mrs.  Maher  you  have 
on  the  right  side  of  the  ass,  and  the  creel  for  Mr. 
Patterson  on  the  left  side  of  the  ass?'  'I  am  sure/ 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    187 

says  he.  And  whether  he  was  sure  or  not  nobody 
will  ever  know.  For  what  with  the  storm  that  was 
in  it  and  the  way  the  tide  was  making  against  the 
wind,  the  devil  himself  wouldn't  have  known  which 
creel  was  which  by  the  time  we  had  them  in  the  cur- 
ragh." 

The  full  horror  of  what  had  happened  broke  on 
me  suddenly.  The  two  creels  had  got  mixed.  I  had 
carried  home  in  the  "Aurora,"  and  Poacher  Quin 
had  handed  over  to  Mrs.  Maher  a  perfectly  inno- 
cent basket  of  fish.  Patterson  had  brought  home  in 
the  "Seven  Daughters"  a  basket  with  some  fish  on 
top,  a  layer  of  seaweed  underneath  them,  and 
then 

"There  was  two  dozen  bottles  in  it,"  said  Poacher 
Quin ;  "and  as  good  stuff  as  ever  came  out  of  Peter 
Flanagan's  still." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "you're  done  for,  now.  Both  of 
you,  and  the  Flanagans,  too.  I  never  heard  of  such 
a  stupid  blunder  in  my  life.  I  can  only  say  that 
I'm  uncommonly  glad  I'm  not  mixed  up  in  it  in  any 
way.  Nothing  can  save  you." 

"Unless  your  Reverence  is  willing  to  help,"  said 
Mrs.  Maher. 

"I  can't  help  you,"  I  said.  "Patterson's  not  a  fool. 
He  wouldn't  believe  me  if  I  went  to  him  and  told  him 
that  the  whisky  is  John  Jameson,  and  had  paid  duty." 

"Sure,  we  wouldn't  ask  that  of  your  Reverence," 
said  Quin:  "for  we  know  well  you  wouldn't  be  tell- 
ing lies  for  the  sake  of  the  likes  of  us." 


i88    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

"What  are  you  asking,  then?"  I  said.  "What  do 
you  expect  me  to  do?" 

"It  could  be/'  said  Quin,  "that  he  hasn't  opened 
the  hamper  yet.  And  if  he  hasn't  there's  a  chance 
for  us.  If  your  Reverence  was  to  go  to  him  and  was 
to  tell  liim  there'd  been  some  kind  of  a  mistake  about 
them  two  creels — there'd  be  no  lie  about  that." 

"No,"  I  said.  "That  would  be  true  enough.  There 
certainly  has  been  a  mistake." 

"And  you  could  tell  him,"  said  Quin,  "that  it 
would  only  be  a  pleasure  to  us  to  take  round  the 
hamper  that  belongs  to  him — God  knows  that'd  be 
true  enough — if  so  be  he'd  let  us  take  away  the  other. 
He  might  do  that." 

"He  would,"  said  Mrs.  Maher.  "He'd  do  it  if 
your  Reverence  asked  him." 

"Why  should  I  ask  him?"  I  said.  "Go  and  tell 
him  that  story  yourself." 

"He  wouldn't  believe  me  if  I  did,"  said  Quin. 
"The  kind  of  a  man  Mr.  Patterson  is,  he'd  think 
there  would  be  something  behind  what  I'd  tell  him, 
and  he  wouldn't  believe  me." 

The  kind  of  man  Poacher  Quin  is,  there  usually  is 
something  behind  every  statement  he  makes,  and  no 
one  but  a  fool  would  believe  him.  I  quite  saw  that 
Patterson's  suspicions  would  be  immediately  aroused 
if  Quin  went  to  him  with  a  request  to  be  allowed  to 
change  the  hampers.  On  the  other  hand  he  might 
agree  to  the  exchange  if  I  asked  him,  always  suppos- 
ing that  he  had  not  already  unpacked  the  hamper  he 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    189 

had.  That  consideration  made  me  hesitate.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  I  should  be  putting  myself  into  a 
very  doubtful  position  by  asking  Patterson  to  ex- 
change the  hampers  if  he  knew  what  was  in  the  one 
he  had. 

"You'll  do  it,  now,  won't  you,  your  Reverence," 
said  Mrs.  Maher. 

She  is  a  middle-aged  woman  and  has  the  reputa- 
tion of  being  hard  in  her  dealings.  The  last  thing 
I  should  suspect  her  of  is  trying  to  wheedle  a  man, 
but  she  certainly  tried  to  wheedle  me  into  going  to 
Patterson's.  The  tone  of  her  voice  when  she  spoke, 
and  the  sidelong  look  in  her  grey  eyes  showed  me 
plainly  that  she  had  fallen  back  on  woman's  last 
and  most  effective  weapon.  But  I  was  not  going  to 
be  caught  that  way. 

"No,  I  won't,"  I  said,  firmly.  "I  don't  see  any 
good  in  involving  myself  in  this  wretched  business." 

Poacher  Quin  breathed  a  heavy  sigh. 

"It's  not  to  be  expected  that  you  would,"  he  said ; 
"and  what  must  be,  must.  If  I'm  to  spend  the  rest  of 
my  life  in  jail  for  this  job  I  can't  help  it.  And,  sure, 
God  is  good.  Maybe  He'll  make  it  up  to  me  after." 

Poacher  Quin's  resignation  and  his  pious  hope  of 
a  special  heaven  hereafter,  for  those  who  have  spent 
this  life  in  prison,  moved  me.  I  felt  really  sorry 
for  the  man. 

"Look  here,"  I  said.  "I  won't  go  to  Patterson 
myself;  but  I  don't  see  why  Miss  Floyd  shouldn't 
go.  From  what  I've  seen  of  Patterson " 


190    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

"Begad,  but  he  was  after  her  right  enough  on 
Inisheeny!"  said  Quin. 

"I  expect  he'd  do  a  good  deal  for  her,"  I  said. 

Mrs.  Maher  looked  inquiringly  at  me  and  then  at 
Quin.  He  nodded  slightly.  I  suppose  I  gave  her 
some  intimation  that  she  had  guessed  our  meaning 
rightly. 

"If  that's  the  way  it  is  between  them,"  she  said, 
"it's  likely  he'll  do  as  she  asks  him.  Why  didn't 
you  tell  me  that  before,  Quin,  and  then  we  needn't 
have  been  troubling  his  Reverence?" 

"Because  I  never  thought  of  it  till  this  minute," 
said  Quin. 

"It's  very  little  sense  you  have,  then,  not  to  think 
of  it,"  said  Mrs.  Maher.  "It's  very  little  sense  any 
man  has  for  the  matter  of  that." 

She  might,  I  think,  have  made  an  exception  of 
me.  I  had  sense  enough  to  see  that  Molly  would 
have  a  better  chance  than  any  of  the  rest  of  us  of 
persuading  Patterson  to  change  hampers — suppos- 
ing he  had  not  yet  opened  the  one  Jbe  took  home  with 
him.  If  he  had  opened  it  neither  Molly  nor  anyone 
else  would  be  able  to  induce  him  to  hush  the  matter 
up.  That  was  my  opinion,  and  I  knew  Patter- 
son pretty  well. 

"I  wonder  now  where  she  is,"  said  Quin,  "for 
we  oughtn't  to  be  losing  any  more  time." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

WE  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  Molly.  She 
has  a  loud  ringing  laugh  which  carries 
a  long  way,  and  the  moment  we  opened 
the  door  of  Mrs.  Maher's  room  we  heard  it.  It 
came  from  the  garden,  a  patch  of  ground  at  the  back 
of  the  hotel.  Half  of  it  is  used  for  growing  po- 
tatoes. The  other  half  serves  as  a  drying  green. 
Molly  and  Tommy  were  playing  cricket  on  the  dry- 
ing green.  They  had  a  coloured  rubber  ball,  bought 
I  expect  in  Mahony's  shop.  They  had  improvised 
a  bat  out  of  part  of  the  lid  of  a  packing  case.  Tommy 
was  bowling  when  I  caught  sight  of  them,  and  Molly 
had  just  sent  one  of  his  balls  into  the  potato  ground, 
and  was  running  hard.  Sabina  Quin  was  fielding, 
and  chased  the  ball  vigorously  enough,  but  seemed 
unable  to  throw  it  when  she  got  it.  Her  idea  was 
to  run  back  with  it,  like  a  faithful  retriever,  and 
place  it  safely  in  Tommy's  hand. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  miss,"  said  Quin,  "but  his 
Reverence  would  like  to  have  a  word  with  you." 

Molly  dropped  the  bat  at  once  and  came  over  to 
me.  She  must  have  been  getting  tired  of  the  cricket. 
She  can  hardly  have  supposed  that  I  was  going  to 
suggest  a  new  adventure.  Tommy  followed  her. 
Sabina,  still  clutching  the  ball,  pretended  to  be  very 

191 


192    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

busy  in  re-spreading  the  clothes  which  had  been  re- 
moved from  the  drying  green.  She  need  not  have 
been  anxious.  Mrs.  Maher  did  not  scold  her.  She 
was,  indeed,  extremely  gracious. 
t  "Let  you  go  on  playing  ball  with  the  young 
gentleman,  Sabina,"  she  said.  "He'll  be  wanting  you 
when  the  young  lady  is  away  from  him." 

I  do  not  think  that  Tommy  wanted  to  play  cricket 
with  Sabina  in  the  least.  When  he  saw  that  we 
did  not  want  him,  he  sat  down  on  a  potato  ridge  and 
lit  a  cigarette.  Molly,  eager  and  inquisitive,  fol- 
lowed us  into  Mrs.  Maher's  room. 

"His  Reverence/'  said  Quin,  "will  tell  you  what 
it  is  that  he's  wanting  you  to  do." 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,"  I  said,  "I  don't  want  you 
to  do  anything.  It's  Mrs.  Maher  and  Quin  who've 
got  into  a  scrape,  and  they  think  that  you  could 
help  them  out." 

"I  love  helping  people  out  of  scrapes/'  said  Molly. 
"I  often  have  to  be  helped  out  myself." 

"And  we'd  help  you,"  said  Quin,  heartily,  "and 
so  would  anyone." 

"The  only  thing  I  can't  do,"  said  Molly,  "is 
get  that  sword  back  from  father.  So  if  that's  what 
you  want " 

"It's  not  what  we  want,"  said  Quin.  "Nor  we 
wouldn't  ask  it  if  we  did  want  it.  Let  him  keep  the 
sword." 

"He  can  have  all  the  swords  there  is  in  the  town," 
said  Mrs.  Maher,  "if  it's  swords  he  wants." 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    193 

"If  it  isn't  the  sword,"  said  Molly,  "or  the  chalice, 
what  is  it?" 

"It's  a  mistake  that  has  happened,"  said  Quin. 

"A  terrible  big  mistake,"  said  Mrs.  Maher.  "A 
mistake  that'll  cost  me  a  hundred  pounds  or  more." 

"And  if  it  isn't  set  right,"  said  Quin,  "it's  likely 
that  I'll  be  spending  the  rest  of  my  life  in  jail." 

"It  must  be  a  perfectly  frightful  mistake,"  said 
Molly,  "if  it  means  your  going  to  jail  for  life.  We 
simply  must  stop  that." 

"It's  yourself  can  do  it,  miss,"  said  Quin,  "if  so 
be  it  can  be  done  at  all.  The  way  of  it  is  this :  You 
maybe  have  noticed  the  two  creels  we  had  on  the 
ass's  back  on  Inisheeny." 

"Full  of  fish?"  said  Molly,  "I  remember." 

"Well,  the  one  of  them  was  for  Mr.  Patterson/' 
said  Quin,  "and  the  other  was  for  Mrs.  Maher  here, 
and  the  mistake  that  was  made  was  this,  that  each 
of  the  two  got  the  wrong  one  tnat  wasn't  meant  for 
him,  but  for  the  other  one." 

Quin's  statement  was  confused  in  form;  but  Molly 
grasped  his  meaning  at  once. 

"I  don't  see,"  she  said,  "how  they  can  put  you  in 
prison  for  that." 

"Maybe  you  don't  quite  understand,  miss,"  said 
Quin.  "What  happened  was  that  Mr.  Patterson 
got  the  creel  that  was  meant  for  Mrs.  Maher  and 
she  got  his." 

"I  understand  that  all  right,"  said  Molly.  "But 
it  isn't  a  crime  to  mix  up  two  hampers." 


194    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

"You'll  have  to  tell  her  the  truth,  Quin,"  I  said. 
"You  can't  expect  Miss  Floyd  to  help  you  if  you 
keep  her  in  the  dark." 

"I  am  telling  her  the  truth/'  said  Quin. 

"Tell  a  little  more  of  it,  then,"  I  said. 

"There  was  fish  and  lobsters  in  them  baskets," 
said  Quin. 

"I  know  that,"  said  Molly,  "for  I  saw  them 
packed.  At  least  I  saw  one  of  them  packed." 

"But  you  didn't  see  what  was  put  into  the  other," 
I  said. 

"There  was  fish  in  Mr.  Patterson's,"  said  Quin, 
"and  that's  what  was  meant  for  him." 

"But  not  what  he  actually  got,"  I  said.  "That's 
where  the  mistake  comes  in." 

"What  was  in  your  hamper,  Mrs.  Maher?"  said 
Molly. 

"There  was  fish  in  it,  too,"  said  Mrs.  Maher. 

"Out  with  it  now,"  I  said.  "You'll  have  to  tell 
k  sooner  or  later.  What  else  was  there?" 

"There  was  that  in  my  basket,"  said  Mrs.  Maher, 
"that  a  young  lady  like  you  never  would  have  heard 
of,  so  what's  the  use  of  telling  you  what  it  was  ?" 

"But  it  was  what  would  be  mighty  displeasing  to 
Mr.  Patterson  if  he  saw  it,"  said  Quin. 

"I'd  like  to  know  what's  in  it,"  said  Molly. 

"Sure  you  wouldn't  know  the  meaning  of  the 
name  of  it,  if  I  was  to  say  it  to  you,"  said  Quin. 

"It's  poteen,"  I  said.  "Do  you  know  what  that 
is,  Molly?" 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT     195 

"Kind  of  whisky,  isn't  it?"  said  Molly. 

"It's  a  kind  of  whisky/'  said  Quin,  "that  would 
send  me  to  jail  if  Mr.  Patterson  got  a  hold  of  it." 

"And  do  you  mean  to  say,"  said  Molly,  "that  Mr. 
Patterson  can  send  you  to  jail  just  because  he 
doesn't  like  the  kind  of  whisky  that  Mrs.  Maher  has? 
That's  ridiculous." 

"It's  true,  though,"  I  said.  "He  really  can  and 
will.  It's  difficult  to  explain  without  going  into  a 
complicated  question  of  political  economy.  But  it's 
quite  true." 

"If  it's  anything  to  do -with  politics,"  said  Molly, 
"I  don't  want  it  explained.  There's  nothing  I  hate 
worse  than  politics.  And  we've  no  time  to  spare. 
The  thing  to  do  is  to  get  that  hamper  back  from 
Mr.  Patterson  before  he  opens  it.  That's  it,  isn't 
it?" 

"It  is,"  said  Quin.  "And  if  you  ask  him,  devil 
a  doubt  but  he'll  say  yes." 

"I'll  ask  him  of  course,"  said  Molly.  "I'll  tell 
him  there's  been  a  mistake.  That's  perfectly  simple." 

"If  so  be  he  hasn't  opened  the  hamper  before  you 
get  at  him." 

"Come  on,"  said  Molly.  "There  isn't  a  moment 
to  lose." 

She  seized  me  by  the  arm  as  she  spoke,  making  it 
perfectly  clear  that  it  was  I  who  was  to  come  on. 
But  I  was  not  a  bit  more  inclined  to  call  on  Patter- 
son in  Molly's  company  than  I  had  been  to  go  by 


196  ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

myself.  I  hung  back,  trying  to  think  how  I  had 
best  excuse  myself.  Molly  tugged  at  my  arm. 

"I'd  much  rather  not,"  I  said.  "In  fact,  I  won't. 
You  see,  Molly,  it'd  hardly  do  for  me  to  mix  myself 
up  in  an  affair  of  this  kind.  You  must  remember 
that  I'm  a  clergyman.  You  can't  expect  me  to  take 
part  in  condoning  a  felony,  or  becoming  an  acces- 
sory after  the  fact.  And  that's  what  it  would  come 
to  if  Mr.  Patterson  has  opened  the  basket  and 
knows  what's  in  it." 

"If  he's  opened  it,"  said  Molly,  "we're  all  done 
for." 

"I'm  not,"  I  said.  "Up  to  the  present  I'm  clear 
of  all  suspicion  and  I  mean  to  remain  clear.  Do  try 
and  remember  that  I'm  a  clergyman." 

"Well,"  said  Molly.    "I'm  a  girl." 

I  did  not  see  what  that  had  to  do  with  the  point 
under  discussion,  so  I  went  on  with  my  defence. 

"And  being  a  clergyman  I  can't  take  part  in  de- 
frauding the  revenue." 

"Being  a  girl,"  she  said,  "I  can't  go  and  call  on 
Mr.  Patterson  by  myself.  It  wouldn't  be  what's 
called  proper.  Not  that  I  mind  whether  it  is  or  not. 
Only  if  you're  going  in  for  keeping  up  your  char- 
acter as  a  clergyman  I  may  as  well  keep  up  mine 
as  a  girl." 

That  seemed  to  me,  when  I  thought  it  over,  a  fair 
statement  of  the  case. 

"Come  on,"  said  Molly,  once  more. 

This  time  I  gave  in  and  went  with  her.    I  suppose 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    197 

she  did  not  quite  trust  me,  for  she  held  on  to  my 
arm  as  we  walked  up  the  street.  My  only  hope  was 
that  Patterson  might  not  be  at  home  when  we 
reached  his  house.  But  we  were  told  that  he  was  at 
home  and  shown  into  his  sitting-room.  He  was 
smoking  a  pipe  and  reading  the  newspaper.  He 
jumped  up  when  he  saw  Molly,  put  his  pipe  into  his 
pocket,  and  offered  her  his  chair. 

"No,  thank  you/'  said  Molly.  "We're  not  going 
to  stay.  We  simply  called  to  say  that  we're  fright- 
fully sorry  about  a  mistake  that's  been  made." 

"Oh,"  said  Patterson,  "what  mistake?" 

"That  hamper  of  fish  and  lobsters,"  said  Molly, 
"wasn't  meant  for  you." 

"Surely,"  said  Patterson,  "there  can't  be  any 
mistake  about  that.  The  Flanagan  people  made  such 
a  business  of  giving  it  to  me.  They  can't  have 
meant  the  basket  for  anyone  else." 

When  Patterson  first  began  to  speak  I  felt  greatly 
relieved.  It  seemed  to  me  evident  that  he  had  not 
opened  the  basket.  If  he  knew  what  the  contents 
were  he  would  hardly  have  spoken  as  he  did.  But 
almost  immediately  I  became  uncomfortable  again. 
I  did  not  understand  Patterson's  tone.  It  was  too 
suave  and  too  innocent,  and  he  glanced  at  me  from 
time  to  time  as  if  there  were  something  behind  his 
words,  a  private  understanding  between  him  and  me. 
But  Molly  noticed  neither  his  tone  nor  the  expres- 
sion of  his  eyes.  She  went  on  explaining  the  posi- 
tion to  Patterson  with  polite  patience. 


198    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

"That's  just  where  the  mistake  came  in,"  she 
said.  "They  did  give  you  a  basket  of  fish ;  but  owing 
to  some  confusion  you've  got  another  basket  which 
was  meant  for  Mrs.  Maher.  That's  what  we  want 
to  apologise  for." 

"It  doesn't  matter,  does  it?"  said  Patterson. 

"Of  course  it  matters,"  said  Molly,  "and  we're 
most  anxious  to  set  it  right.  I'll  send  round  Poacher 
Quin  with  your  hamper  at  once.  And  you  can  give 
him  Mrs.  Maher's." 

"What's  the  good  of  going  to  all  that  trouble?" 
said  Patterson.  "One  hamper  is  just  the  same  as 
the  other.  They're  both  full  of  fish." 

I  looked  sharply  at  Patterson.  He  spoke  with  an 
unconcern  too  elaborate  to  be  natural.  I  did  not 
know  what  to  make  of  it.  If  he  knew  what  was  in: 
the  hamper  he  was  behaving  in  a  very  odd  way. 

"But  your  hamper  has  far  more  fish  in  it,"  said 
Molly.  "That  is  to  say  the  hamper  you  ought  to 
have.  That's  why  Mrs.  Maher  wants  to  change. 
She  feels  most  uncomfortable  at  the  thought  that 
she's  keeping  what  doesn't  really  belong  to  her." 

That  seemed  to  me  a  most  unwise  thing  to  say. 
No  one  who  knows  Mrs.  Maher  would  suspect  her 
of  feeling  uncomfortable  about  getting  the  best  of 
any  bargain  or  exchange.  Patterson  knew  just  as 
well  as  I  did  that  she  would  exult  in  cheating  her 
own  daughter  if  she  had  one.  But  he  did  not  even 
smile. 

"Please  tell  Mrs.  Maher,"  he  said,  "not  to  be  dis- 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    199 

tressed  about  the  mistake.  I  have  quite  as  many 
fish  as  I'm  at  all  likely  to  want." 

This  time  Patterson  actually  winked  at  me,  using 
for  the  signal  the  eye  which  was  furthest  from 
Molly.  I  gasped.  It  was  scarcely  possible  to  doubt 
that  he  knew  what  was  in  the  hamper,  and  meant 
to  keep  the  twenty- four  bottles  of  whisky  for  his 
own  use. 

Molly  replied  to  his  words,  not  to  his  wink,  which 
she  did  not  see. 

"But  the  fish  in  your  basket,"  she  said,  "are  far 
better  than  those  in  the  basket  you've  got.  Soles  and 
plaice  and  red  mullet  and  turbot.  They  were  picked 
out  specially  for  you.  Mrs.  Maher's  hamper  has 
nothing  in  it  except  dogfish.  Poor  Quin  is  fright- 
fully upset  about  the  mistake,  almost  in  tears.  He 
can't  bear  to  think  of  your  having  nothing  to  eat 
but  dogfish." 

If  there  had  remained  in  my  mind  a  shadow  of  a 
doubt  that  Patterson  knew  the  truth  and  was  .play- 
ing with  Molly,  his  reception  of  her  last  speech 
would  have  chased  it  away.  No  one,  least  of  all  Pat- 
terson, who  knows  the  man,  could  possibly  believe 
that  Poacher  Quin  was  almost  in  tears  over  a  mistake 
which  deprived  an  enemy  of  his  of  some  good  fish. 
I  should  think  that  so  far  from  being  distressed 
Quin  would  be  delighted  to  think  that  P'atterson 
had  nothing  but  dogfish  to  eat.  He  would  be  still 
better  pleased  if  Patterson  had  nothing  at  all. 

"The  French,"  said  Patterson,  "eat  the  fins  of 


200    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

dogfish  served  with  a  kind  of  black  sauce.  I'm  told 
they're  excellent." 

"But  poor  Quin  is  frightfully  upset  about  it," 
said  Molly. 

Then  she  appealed  to  me. 

"Isn't  he?"  she  said. 

I  could  back  up  that  statement  without  depart- 
ing a  hairsbreadth  from  the  truth.  And  I  did  so 
though  I  felt  that  Patterson  thoroughly  understood 
Quin's  feelings. 

"You'd  be  sorry  for  him,"  I  said,  "if  you  saw  him 
now.  He  feels  the  mistake  acutely." 

"Tell  him,"  said  Patterson,  "that  it's  all  right. 
He  needn't  think  any  more  about  it." 

He  spoke  to  Molly;  but  I  felt  sure  that  he  meant 
me  to  give  the  message  to  Quin.  I  understood  it. 
Molly  certainly  did  not. 

"But  it's  not  all  right,"  she  said,  "and  it  won't 
be  unless  you  let  him  give  you  back  the  basket  that's 
intended  for  you." 

She  was  extremely  persistent.  I  began  to  wonder 
that  Patterson  did  not  tell  her  the  truth,  and  put  an 
end  to  the  whole  argument.  But  I  suppose  it  would 
scarcely  have  been  safe  for  him  to  admit  that  he 
knew  all  about  the  whisky.  His  position  was  quite 
as  delicate  and  difficult  as  mine.  Neither  of  us 
could  face  public  opinion  if  it  came  to  be  known  that 
we  were  the  accomplices  of  smugglers. 

"Come    along,    Molly,"    I    said.      "We    mustn't 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    201 

bother  Mr.  Patterson.  If  he  likes  to  keep  the  hamper 
he  has,  there's  no  more  to  be  said." 

"Oh,  but  do  stay  and  have  some  tea,"  said  Pat- 
terson. 

"No,  we  won't,"  said  Molly.  "We'll  go  straight 
back  and  tell  Quin  what  you've  said.  I  call  it 
cruel." 

I  felt  sorry  for  Patterson.  He  had  been  put  in  a 
very  difficult  position,  and  had  only  succeeded  in 
making  Molly  angry  with  him,  which  I  am  sure  he 
did  not  want  to  do. 

She  pranced  out  of  the  room  and  I  followed  her. 

On  our  way  back  to  the  hotel,  I  discovered  to 
my  surprise  that  Molly  was  angry  with  me  and 
not  with  Patterson. 

"I  call  it  perfectly  horrid  of  you,"  she  said,  "not  to 
back  me  up.  He  evidently  hasn't  opened  his  ham- 
per, and  doesn't  know  what's  in  it.  If  you'd  said 
a  few  words  to  help  me  he'd  have  agreed  to  the  ex- 
change." 

The  extreme  injustice  of  this  charge  stung  me, 
particularly  as  I  could  not  defend  myself  without 
giving  away  Patterson's  secret. 

"I  think  you're  selfish  and  cruef,"  said  Molly, 
"and  I  should  never  have  thought  that  any  clergyman 
would  have  been  so  wicked.  Poor  Quin!  And  he 
thought  you  were  his  friend." 

"I  am,"  I  said,  feebly. 

"No  you're  not,"  said  Molly.  "If  you  were  you'd 
have  tried  to  save  him." 


202   ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

If  it  was  necessary  that  Molly  should  quarrel 
with  anyone  it  was  certainly  better  that  I  should  be 
the  victim  rather  than  Patterson.  I  was  becoming 
more  and  more  convinced  that  it  would  be  very  pain- 
ful to  him  to  find  out  that  she  was  really  angry  with 
him.  It  turned  out  before  we  reached  the  hotel  that 
she  was  not  seriously  and  enduringly  angry  even  with 
me.  She  recovered  her  temper  quite  as  rapidly  as 
she  had  lost  it.  After  a  minute's  silence  she  turned 
to  me  with  a  smile. 

"Don't  tell  father  about  the  mistake,"  she  said. 
"There's  no  use  upsetting  him." 

I  had  seen  Floyd  upset  once,  when  he  discovered 
that  the  crannog  had  been  opened,  and  suspected  me 
of  the  crime.  I  quite  agreed  with  Molly  that  it  was 
most  undesirable  to  upset  him  again.  But  I  did 
not  see  how  the  muddle  of  fish,  lobsters,  and  whisky 
affected  him.  He  had  got  his  sword  and  his  chalice. 
Why  should  he  care  what  happened  to  the  other  ex- 
ports from  Inisheeny? 

Molly  explained. 

"You  see,"  she  said,  "the  basket  which  Mr.  Pat- 
terson has,  the  one  -which  Mrs.  Maher  ought  to 
have,  has  the  bones  in  it.  I  packed  them  myself. 
And  if  father  knew  that  they  weren't  safe  in  the 
hotel,  why !" 

I  interrupted  her  at  that  point.  I  had  not  the 
slightest  idea  what  bones  she  was  talking  about,  and 
bones  of  any  sort  seemed  an  unnecessary  complica- 
tion in  a  matter  already  greatly  confused. 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    203 

"What  bones?'5  I  asked. 

"The  bones  that  were  dug  out  of  the  crannog," 
said  Molly.  "Incised  bones,  they're  called,  which 
means  bones  with  little  scratches  on  them.  Crannogs 
are  full  of  incised  bones,  always." 

I  remembered  that  the  guide  book  to  the  antiquities 
of  the  museum — the  book  I  had  originally  consulted 
— said  something  about  incised  bones. 

"Didn't  I  tell  you?"  said  Molly.  "Father  found 
the  Flanagan  children  playing  with  a  whole  lot  of 
incised  bones.  He  was  furious,  of  course." 

I  do  not  wonder.  To  see  children  playing  with 
incised  bones  must  have  been  as  painful  to  Floyd 
as  it  would  be  to  a  financier  to  see  a  man  throwing 
sovereigns  into  the  sea. 

"But  he  cooled  down,"  said  Molly,  "when  Mrs. 
Flanagan  collected  all  the  bones  and  gave  them  to 
him.  He  couldn't  carry  them.  There  were  far  too 
many.  So  I  put  them  into  the  hamper.  You  see 
now  why  it  wouldn't  do  to  tell  father  about  the  mis- 
take." 

"But,"  I  said,  "the  bones  are  quite  safe.  Mr. 
Patterson  won't  want  to  keep  them." 

"Don't  you  see,"  said  Molly,  "that  if  father  knew 
he'd  go  straight  to  Mr.  Patterson  and  ask  for  the 
bones?" 

That  seemed  to  me  a  very  natural  and  proper 
thing  to  do.  I  saw  no  possible  objection  to  Dr. 
Floyd  asking  for  the  bones,  and  getting  them,  as  no 
doubt  he  would. 


204   ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

"And  if  he  did,"  said  Molly,  "Mr.  Patterson 
would  open  the  basket  at  once  to  get  them  out,  and 
then!" 

I  felt  sure  that  Patterson  had  already  opened  the 
hamper,  and  was  quite  well  aware  of  its  contents; 
but  I  could  not  say  so  to  Molly. 

"He's  bound  to  open  it  soon,"  I  said. 

"But  not  at  once,"  said  Molly;  "and  we  may 
manage  to  get  it  back  before  he  does.  But  we  shan't 
have  a  chance  if  father  goes  asking  for  those  bones, 
for  then  Mr.  Patterson  will  go  straight  and  get 
them." 

It  interested  me  to  hear  that  Molly  still  had  some 
hope  of  recovering  the  hamper.  I  wondered  how 
she  meant  to  do  it.  Persuasion  had  failed  with 
Patterson.  It  seemed  unlikely  that  threats  would 
succeed.  I  became  curious  to  hear  what  Molly's  new 
plan  was,  so  I  readily  promised  to  say  nothing  to 
her  father  about  the  loss  of  the  bones. 

"He  may  be  back,"  said  Molly,  as  we  reached  the 
door  of  the  hotel,  "though  I  expect  not.  Father 
loves  ruins  and  when  he  gets  to  one  he's  never  seen 
before  he's  rather  inclined  to  linger." 


CHAPTER  XV 

DR.    FLOYD    had    lingered.      Indeed,    he 
lingered   on  until  half -past  nine  o'clock, 
which  was  lucky  for  Molly,  for  it  gave  her 
plenty  of  time  to  discuss  her  scheme  for  recovering 
the  hamper.     She  was  able  to  hold  what  she  called 
a  council  of  war  without  being  interrupted. 

I  was  invited  to  attend  the  council.  I  ought  to 
have  refused  the  invitation,  gone  back  to  my  rectory, 
and  declined  to  be  lured  from  it  again.  If  I  had 
listened  to  the  voice  of  common  sense  I  should  have 
taken  care  to  see  nothing  more  of  Patterson,  Poacher 
Quin,  or  Mrs.  Maher  until  the  Floyds  had  left  Car- 
rigahooly.  I  had  done  a  great  deal  for  the  Floyds 
at  considerable  personal  inconvenience.  There  was 
no  reason  whatever  why  I  should  mix  myself  up 
any  further  in  their  affairs.  Nor  did  I  feel  called 
upon  to  help  Mrs.  Maher  and  Poacher  Quin  to  re- 
cover their  lost  property.  They  had  never  given  me 
a  single  bottle  of  whisky,  though  I  had  been  ferry- 
ing it  across  from  Inisheeny  for  them  for  months, 
perhaps  for  years,  and  was  certainly  entitled  to 
some  reward.  Beside,  they  were  no  longer  in  any 
danger  o'f  imprisonment  or  fines.  The  only  question 
that  remained  to  be  decided  was  whether  they  could 
get  their  whisky  back  or  whether  Patterson  would 

205 


206   ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

succeed  in  keeping  it  for  his  own  use.  I  rather  hoped 
Patterson  might  secure  the  stuff  in  the  end.  Mrs. 
Maher  and  Poacher  Quin  could  get  plenty  more.  In 
any  case  it  was  no  business  of  mine  how  the  struggle 
ended. 

But  my  curiosity  got  the  better  of  my  common 
sense,  as  it  had  got  the  better  of  my  laziness  earlier 
in  the  afternoon.  I  stayed  and  acted  as  a  kind  of 
chorus,  like  the  chorus  of  a  Greek  play,  in  the  coun- 
cil. I  offered  comments,  taunts,  and  irritating  ad- 
vice to  the  others. 

Molly  presided  without  being  formally  voted  to 
the  chair,  indeed,  without  being  in  a  chair  at  all. 
She  preferred  to  sit  on  the  edge  of  Mrs.  Maher's 
writing  table.  She  opened  the  proceedings  with  a 
short  account  of  our  position. 

"He's  got  the  hamper,"  she  said,  "and  he  won't 
agree  to  exchange — which  is  bad.  But  he  hasn't 
opened  it  yet,  or  hadn't  when  we  were  there — which 
is  good.  So  that's  one  thing  on  each  side." 

"What's  called  a  pro  and  a  con,"  said  Tommy. 

I  do  not  know  what  people  mean  who  say  that 
our  public  schools  fail  to  provide  a  good  education. 
If  Tommy  were  not  highly  cultivated  he  would  not 
have  thought  of  describing  Molly's  two  points  as  a 
pro  and  a  con. 

Molly  looked  at  me  for  a  confirmation  of  her 
statement.  I  could  not  give  it,  knowing  as  I  did 
that  Patterson  had  opened  the  hamper.  However, 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    207 

I  supported  her  as  well  as  I  could  without  saying 
anything  that  was  not  true. 

"He  didn't  mention  the  subject  of  whisky,"  I 
said,  "all  the  time  we  were  with  him." 

"And  he  would  have  mentioned  it,"  said  Quin,  "if 
he'd  known  there  was  whisky  to  mention.  Mention 
it !  No,  but  he'd  have  had  me  arrested  before  now  if 
he'd  known,  and  he  couldn't  have  been  able  to  help 
knowing  if  he'd  opened  the  hamper." 

"That  settles  that,"  said  Molly.  "The  next  thing 
is  to  decide  how  we're  going  to  get  our  hamper  back. 
My  idea  is  that  the  simplest  thing  is  to  go  and  take 
it." 

That  certainly  was  the  simplest  thing;  but  there 
were  certain  objections  to  it.  Poacher  Quin  stated 
one  of  them  forcibly. 

"He  wouldn't  let  you,  Miss,"  he  said.  "He'd  stop 
you." 

"He  would  if  he  was  awake,"  said  Molly;  "but  I 
don't  suppose  he'll  sit  up  all  night  watching  that 
hamper.  What's  to  hinder  anyone  going  there  in 
the  middle  of  the  night  and  taking  it?" 

"It  could  be  done,"  said  Quin;  "there's  no  doubt 
it  could  be  done." 

"It  would  be  burglary,"  I  said. 

"It  wouldn't,"  said  Molly,  flatly. 

"It's  my  opinion,"  said  Mrs.  Maher,  "that  his 
Reverence  is  right,  and  burglary  is  what  I  wouldn't 
care  for  myself,  though  the  Lord  knows  you  might 


208    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

do  pretty  near  anything  in  Ireland  now  and  no 
harm  come  of  it." 

She  felt  that  she  was  quite  deeply  enough  dipped 
in  crime  already.  If  she  were  caught  burgling  Pat- 
terson's house  she  would  not  get  off  with  a  fine. 

"I  don't  see  that  it's  exactly  burglary/'  said 
Tommy,  "if  we  don't  take  anything  of  his." 

"Of  course  it's  not  burglary,"  said  Molly.  "Bur- 
glary is  a  kind  of  stealing,  and  it  isn't  stealing  if  we 
only  take  what's  our  own." 

We  ought  to  have  had  a  solicitor  with  us  to  advise 
on  these  difficult  points.  There  was  a  certain 
speciousness  about  Molly's  argument.  I  felt  that  it 
would  be  better  to  shift  my  ground  slightly. 

"Anyhow,"  I  said,  "it  would  be  housebreaking, 
and  that's  a  serious  offence." 

Poacher  Quin  had  not  been  listening  to  this  dis- 
cussion. Ethical  questions  and  fine  legal  distinctions 
do  not  interest  him  much.  His  mind  had  been  work- 
ing on  the  practical  side  of  the  affair. 

"There's  nothing  to  hinder  anyone  getting  over 
the  wall  into  Patterson's  back-yard,"  he  said.  "It's 
easy  enough  to  climb." 

He  looked  at  Tommy  as  he  spoke,  evidently  with 
the  idea  that  Tommy  should  do  the  climbing. 

"And  once  you're  in  the  yard,"  said  Quin,  "there's 
nothing  in  front  of  you  only  the  back-door.  Now, 
what's  to  hinder  Mrs.  Dever — that's  my  sister,  Miss, 
and  she's  Mr.  Patterson's  servant — what's  to  hinder 
her  leaving  the  back-door  open  for  the  night?" 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    209 

"There,  now,"  said  Molly,  triumphantly.  "It 
won't  even  be  housebreaking.  It  can't  be  house- 
breaking  if  nobody  breaks  the  house,  and  nobody 
need  break  the  house,  if  the  door's  opened." 

Molly  had  certainly  got  over  my  housebreaking 
objection.  I  had  nothing  more  to  say  on  that  point. 
I  had  to  satisfy  myself  by  taunting  Quin. 

"Being  your  sister,  Quin,"  I  said,  "she'll  probably 
have  no  hesitation  in  leaving  the  door  open." 

"She'll  do  it  if  she's  asked,"  said  Quin. 

"Seeing  as  how  she's  Sabina's  aunt,"  said  Mrs. 
Maher,  "I'd  say  she'd  be  likely  to  leave  the  door  open 
whether  she  was  asked  or  not.  Of  all  the  girls  ever  I 
had  in  my  house  Sabina's  the  worst  for  not  caring 
whether  a  door's  open  or  shut,  or  a  window  fastened, 
or  a  cupboard  locked.  The  only  time  ever  I  knew  her 
to  lock  a  cupboard  shed  lose  the  keys  and  then  you'd 
sooner  she  left  it  open." 

Mrs.  Maher  had  long  and  painful  experience  of 
Sabina's  ways.  She  ought  to  be  able  to  guess  how 
the  girl's  aunt  was  likely  to  behave. 

"She  might  leave  it  open,"  said  Quin,  "or  she 
might  not.  But  she  will  if  she's  told,  and  we'll  send 
Sabina  round  to  tell  her." 

"There'll  be  the  dickens  of  a  row  to-morrow 
morning,"  said  Tommy,  "when  Patterson  finds  out 
the  hamper  is  gone." 

This  sounded  like  an  objection  to  the  burglary, 
though  a  feeble  one.  But  Tommy  was  not  thinking 
of  it  in  that  way.  He  evidently  regarded  a  row  the 


210    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

next  morning  as  an  attractive  finish  to  the  excitement 
of  the  night. 

"There'll  be  no  row  at  all/'  said  Molly;  "his  own 
hamper  will  be  left  instead  of  the  one  that  is  taken 
away,  and  he'll  never  know  that  anything  has 
happened." 

"That's  a  good  notion/'  said  Quin,  enthusiasti- 
cally. "Devil  the  smarter  young  lady  there  is  in 
Ireland  than  your  ladyship." 

I  liked  the  way  in  which  Quin  promoted  Molly  to 
a  position  in  the  peerage.  If  only  all  titles  were 
given  as  rewards  for  intelligence  and  acuteness  of 
intellect  the  House  of  Lords  would  be  in  a  much 
stronger  position  than  it  is. 

"It  all  seems  ridiculously  easy,"  I  said.  "What 
time  do  you  think  of  starting,  Quin?" 

"Is  it  me  start?"  said  Quin,  in  a  tone  of  amaze- 
ment, which  was  certainly  genuine. 

"Of  course  it's  you,"  I  said.  "You're  far  more 
interested  in  getting  back  that  hamper  than  anyone 
else  is." 

"I'll  not  do  it,"  said  Quin. 

His  teeth  closed  on  the  words.  His  face  took  an 
expression  of  sulky  obstinacy. 

"And  why  wouldn't  you  do  it?"  said  Mrs.  Maher. 
"There's  nobody  as  well  fit  to  do  it  as  you  are,  for 
you're  the  only  one  of  us  that's  accustomed  to  the 
like." 

This  was  grossly  unjust  to  Quin.    He  had  broken 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    211 

the  law  in  many  ways,  but  he  had  never  committed 
burglary. 

"Do  it  yourself,"  he  said  to  Mrs.  Maher,  "if  you're 
as  keen  as  all  that  on  having  it  done." 

"How  could  I  be  climbing  walls,"  said  Mrs. 
Maher.  "I've  more  respect  for  myself  than  to  be 
trying  them  games  at  my  time  of  life." 

Mrs.  Maher  must  be  fifty,  and  cannot  be  expected 
to  be  as  active  as  a  young  girl.  But  it  was  the  first 
time  I  ever  heard  her  admit  she  had  reached  that  un- 
mentionable age  which  is  called  "my  time  of  life." 

"But  why  won't  you  do  it,  Quin?"  said  Tommy. 

"You'll  go  to  prison  in  any  case,"  I  said.  "Mr. 
Patterson  is  sure  to  open  that  hamper  to-morrow,  if 
it  isn't  taken  from  him  to-night.  They  can't  give  you 
more  than  a  life  sentence,  even  for  burglary,  and  you 
said  yourself  that  you  expected  to  get  that  for  smug- 
gling." 

"I'll  tell  you  why  I  won't  do  it,"  he  said.  "It's  a 
bad  thing  to  go  to  jail,  so  it  is,  for  the  rest  of  my  life. 
But  it's  better  than  being  killed  dead  so  as  there' d  be 
no  rest  of  my  life.  And  that's  what  would  likely 
happen  if  I  went  trying  to  take  things  out  of  Mr. 
Patterson's  house  in  the  middle  of  the  night.  He'd 
shoot,  so  he  would,  the  minute  he  saw  me.  And, 
what's  more,  he'd  hit  when  he  did  shoot,  for  that's 
the  kind  of  man  Mr.  Patterson  is." 

I  had  not  thought  of  that  possibility.  But  I  saw 
at  once  that  Quin  had  good  reason  for  feeling  ner- 
vous. Patterson  had  given  me  a  hint  that  he  did 


212    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

not  mean  to  take  advantage  of  the  accident  which 
had  placed  Mrs.  Maher's  whisky  in  his  hands  by 
prosecuting  anybody.  But  he  might  very  well  take  a 
different  view  of  an  attempt  to  burgle  his  house.  I 
know  that  he  goes  to  bed  with  a  loaded  revolver 
under  his  pillow.  And  an  Irish  policeman,  nowa- 
days, is  wise  if  he  shoots  at  once  when  he  sees  a 
stranger  in  his  house  at  night. 

"I'd  rather  be  alive  than  dead,  any  day,"  said 
Quin,  "even  if  I  am  in  jail." 

I  sympathised  with  him  entirely.     Molly  did  not. 

"You're  a  coward,"  she  said,  "but  I  don't  care 
whether  you  come  with  us  or  not.  Tommy  and  I  will 
do  it  without  you.  Won't  we,  Tommy?" 

"Rather,"  said  Tommy. 

Quin  was  neither  subdued  nor  angered  by  the 
insult  which  Molly  flung  at  him.  He  was  so  filled 
with  admiration  for  her  daring  that  he  gave  her  a 
new  courtesy  title. 

"Your  honour's  ladyship,"  he  said,  "is  the  finest 
young  lady  ever  was.  I'll  be  off  this  minute  to  tell 
Sabina  to  run  round  to  her  aunt,  and  bid  her  leave 
the  back  door  open.  Tell  me  now,  your  honour's 
ladyship,  wouldn't  it  be  as  well  if  Sabina  was  to  go 
with  you  to  help  to  carry  the  hamper?" 

"Do  you  think  she'd  go  ?"  I  asked.  "She  might  be 
afraid  of  being  shot,  like  you." 

"Is  it  Sabina  go?"  said  Quin.  "I'd  like  to  see  her 
not  go  when  she's  told.  She  knows  well  what'd  be 
waiting  for  her  after  if  she  didn't  do  what  she  was 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT     213 

bid.  I  reared  that  girl  myself  ever  since  her  mother 
died,  as  your  Reverence  knows  well,  and  nobody  will 
ever  have  it  to  cast  up  against  me  that  I  spared 
the  stick  on  her." 

This  testimony  to  Sabina's  character  impressed 
Molly. 

"She  might  be  useful,"  she  said.  "What  do  you 
say,  Tommy?  Shall  we  take  her?" 

The  argument  that  Sabina  must  be  obedient  be- 
cause she  had  been  beaten  impressed  him  less  than  it 
did  Molly.  He  has,  no  doubt,  often  been  beaten  him- 
self and  knows  the  effect.  But  he  had  seen  Sabina 
playing  cricket  and  formed  a  good  opinion  of  her. 

"She  seems  a  sporting  sort  of  girl,"  he  said. 

"Does  she  know  her  way  about  the  inside  of 
Mr.  Patterson's  house?"  said  Molly. 

"If  she  doesn't  she  ought  to,"  said  Mrs.  Maher, 
"for  there  isn't  an  hour  of  the  day  or  night,  when  I'd 
be  wanting  her,  but  she'd  be  over  there  with  her 
aunt.  She's  in  that  house  more  than  she's  in  this, 
though  it's  in  this  and  not  that  that  she's  paid  to  be." 

"She  knows  the  inside  of  Patterson's  house,"  said 
Quin,  solemnly,  "as  well  as  she  knows  the  outside  of 
her  own  skin." 

He  slipped  out  of  the  room  as  he  spoke,  and  I  have 
no  doubt  laid  heavy  injunctions  on  Sabina.  Mrs. 
Maher  went  after  him,  afraid,  I  suppose,  of  being 
dragged  into  the  burgling  party.  I  thought  it  was 
time  for  me  to  go  too.  The  council  of  war  was  over, 
and  I  wanted  to  see  Patterson  before  he  went  to  bed. 


214  -ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

Quin's  fear  that  there  might  be  shooting  weighed  on 
my  mind.  I  was  perfectly  certain  that  Patterson 
would  not  fire  at  Molly  if  he  knew  who  she  was,  or 
even  at  Tommy.  But  he  would  not  expect  them  in 
his  house  in  the  early  hours  of  the  morning,  and 
Quin  was  perfectly  right  in  saying  that  he  is  a  good 
shot  with  a  revolver.  I  was  not  much  afraid  of 
Molly  and  Tommy  being  arrested.  Nobody  is  ar- 
rested in  Ireland  now  for  anything  they  do  in  the 
way  of  burglary,  arson,  or  murder;  though  a  good 
many  people  are  arrested  for  what  the  Government 
thinks  they  may  be  going  to  do.  I  was,  therefore, 
not  in  the  least  uneasy  about  the  escapade  ending  in 
the  Police  Court.  But  I  was  rather  afraid  of  Pat- 
terson's revolver.  The  simplest  thing  to  do  was  to 
give  him  warning  of  what  he  might  expect.  I  left 
Molly  and  Tommy  to  discuss  the  details  of  their 
plan,  while  I  strolled  up  to  Patterson's  house. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

PATTERSON  told  me  frankly,  that  he  had 
unpacked  his  creel  directly  he  got  it  into  the 
house.  It  did  not  occur  to  him  that  there  had 
been  any  mistake.  Till  Molly  and  I  called  on  him 
with  our  proposal  for  making  an  exchange  he  hon- 
estly thought  the  whisky  was  meant  for  him.  His 
idea  was  that  the  island  Flanagans  wanted  to  give" 
him  a  present,  and  he  appreciated  the  delicacy  with 
which  the  gift  was  made. 

"If  they  had  offered  me  the  poteen  straight  out," 
he  said,  "I  couldn't  possibly  have  taken  it.  It 
wouldn't  have  done  for  a  man  in  my  position  to  say 
thank  you,  and  walk  off  with  two  dozen  bottles  of 
whisky  under  his  arm.'* 

The  human  conscience  is  a  curious  thing.  I  have 
no  doubt  that  Patterson  would  have  refused  the 
whisky  if  it  had  been  offered  to  him.  But  when  he 
did  not  have  to  admit  that  he  was  taking  it  his  con- 
science let  him  alone. 

"Of  course,  if  they'd  made  any  conditions,"  he 
said.  "I  shouldn't  have  touched  the  stuff.  That 
would  have  amounted  to  bribery.  But  when  I  found 
the  bottles  in  the  bottom  of  a  hamper  which  I  be- 
lieved contained  nothing  but  fish " 

He  looked  at  me  inquiringly,  as  if  he  wanted  to 
215 


216    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

know  what  I  thought  about  the  morality  of  his 
action. 

"That,"  I  said,  "put  you  in  an  entirely  different 
position." 

"And,  after  all,"  he  went  on,  "why  shouldn't  a 
man,  just  because  he  happens  to  be  a  policeman, 
do  what  everybody  else  in  the  whole  country  is  do- 
ing?" 

"Well,"  I  said,  "as  long  as  your  own  conscience 
doesn't  reproach  you " 

But  apparently  it  did,  slightly.  That  is  the  worst 
of  being  an  Englishman.  Long  centuries  of  orderly 
living  have  confused  the  minds  of  the  English,  so 
that  they  have  come  to  think  a  thing  must  be  wrong 
if  it  is  illegal,  and  is  sure  to  be  right  if  the  law  allows 
it.  We  Irish  understand  that  it  is  sometimes  right  to 
break  the  law.  Perhaps  we  go  too  far  and  think  that 
it  is  never  right  to  keep  it.  But  Patterson  is  much 
less  emancipated  in  spirit. 

"I  can't  help  feeling,"  he  said,  still  defending  him- 
self, "that  the  police  in  Ireland  have  a  right  to  some 
little  indulgence.  Here  we  are  potted  at  like  wood- 
cock all  over  the  country,  and  the  Government  never 
does  a  thing  to  help  us.  It's  rather  hard  if  we  can't 
get  a  drop  of  drink  now  and  then  to  keep  our  spirits 
up." 

"It  was  a  great  comfort  to  me,"  I  said,  "to  find 
that  you  weren't  going  to  prosecute  poor  Quin." 

"I  might  have  prosecuted  him,"  said  Patterson, 
"if  I  had  known  that  he  had  anything  to  do  with  it. 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    217 

That  man  deserves  all  he's  likely  to  get.  He's  an  out- 
and-out  Sinn  Feiner.  Oh,  I  know  you  say  he  isn't! 
But  Fm  perfectly  sure  he  is ;  and  if  I'd  known  all  I 
know  now  about  the  hamper  not  being  meant  for  me, 
I'd  have  prosecuted  him  and  Mrs.  Maher  without 
hesitation.  But  I  never  thought  of  the  possibility  of 
there  being  a  mistake  till  you  and  Miss  Floyd  came 
here  this  afternoon.  Then,  of  course,  it  was  too  late 
to  do  anything." 

"Quite  too  late/'  I  said.  "Besides,  I  suppose  you 
wanted  to  keep  the  whisky  when  you  had  it." 

"I'd  drunk  some  of  it,"  said  Patterson.  "That's 
what  made  it  too  late  to  do  anything." 

"I  suppose,"  I  said,  "that  you  don't  consider  it  in 
any  way  dishonest  to  keep  two  dozen  bottles  of 
whisky  that  really  belong  to  Mrs.  Maher?" 

"They  don't  belong  to  her  any  more  than  they  do 
to  me,"  he  said.  "If  they  belong  to  anyone  I  suppose 
they  belong  to  the  Inland  Revenue  people.  And 
they'd  make  no  use  of  the  stuff  if  they  had  it.  They'd 
pour  it  down  a  drain  as  likely  as  not." 

"Which  would  be  horrible  waste,"  I  said,  "and 
quite  contrary  to  the  public  interests  in  times  like 
these,  when  there's  an  all  round  shortage  of  every- 
thing." 

"Exactly,"  said  Patterson,  heartily. 

I  think  that  the  idea  of  it  being  a  public  duty  to 
prevent  the  waste  of  whisky  was  new  to  him  and 
helped  to  reconcile  his  conscience,  still  a  little  res- 
tive, to  what  he  was  doing. 


2i8  ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

"So  it  comes  to  this,"  I  said,  "that  anyone  may 
keep  that  whisky  who  can  get  it. 

The  good  old  rule,  the  simple  plan, 

That  they  should  take  who  have  the  power 
And  they  should  keep  who  can. 

"That's  Wordsworth,  though  you  mightn't  think 
it." 

"That  just  about  expresses  the  position,"  said 
Patterson,  "whoever  wrote  the  lines." 

"I'm  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,"  I  said.  "Because 
Molly  Floyd  and  my  nephew,  Tommy,  haven't  by  any 
means  given  up  the  idea  of  getting  the  whisky  back 
for  Mrs.  Maher.  They  mean  to  burgle  your  house 
to-night  while  you're  asleep." 

"If  I  catch  that  blackguard,  Quin,  on  my  prem- 
ises," said  Patterson,  "I'll  shoot.  I  won't  have  my 
house  raided  by  Sinn  Feiners  without  putting  up  the 
best  defence  I  can." 

"Quin  isn't  going  to  be  in  the  party  at  all,"  I  said. 
"That's  what  I  came  to  tell  you.  It's  a  purely  pri- 
vate enterprise.  Nothing  in  the  slightest  degree 
political  about  it.  There'll  be  nobody  in  it  except 
Molly  Floyd,  my  nephew,  and  perhaps  Mrs.  Maher's 
servant,  you  know  the  girl,  Sabina  Quin." 

"Oh,  if  it's  only  those  two  girls  and  Tommy " 

"That's  all.  So  I  rely  on  you  not  to  shoot.  Any 
other  kind  of  welcome  except  that." 

"There'll  be  no  necessity  for  shooting,"  said  Pat- 
terson. "I'd  have  tea  and  cake  and  chocolates  and 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    219 

anything  else  they'd  be  likely  to  fancy,  ready  for 
them,  if  I  thought  they'd  really  come.  But  of  course 
they  won't." 

I  felt  pretty  sure  that  they  would  try,  and  I  did 
not  like  the  airy  contempt  with  which  Patterson  was 
taking  the  warning  I  was  giving  him. 

"They  couldn't  get  into  the  house  if  they  did 
come,"  said  Patterson.  "I  always  bolt  the  windows 
and  lock  the  doors  at  night." 

I  did  not  feel  obliged  to  tell  him  that  his  back- 
door was  going  to  be  left  open  for  the  burgling  party. 
If  he  had  been  a  little  less  self-confident  I  might  have 
warned  him  of  that. 

"Well,"  I  said,  "don't  shoot  any  way,  and  don't 
have  any  of  your  police  lurking  round  to  arrest  them. 
I  don't  suppose  Molly  Floyd  and  Sabina  would  mind 
being  arrested.  But  if  it  got  into  the  papers  that 
Tommy  had  been  caught  burgling  a  house  in  the 

middle  of  the  night The  boy's  at  Haileybury, 

you  know,  and  they  have  to  be  tremendously  par- 
ticular about  keeping  up  the  tone  of  these  public 
schools.  It's  impossible  to  say  what  the  head  master 
would  do  with  a  boy  who  was  mixed  up  in  such  an 
escapade." 

"Expel  him,  I  should  think,"  said  Patterson.  "But 
you  needn't  be  afraid.  I'll  send  the  police  off  in  some 
other  direction  for  the  night.  And  I'll  go  to  bed  my- 
self." 

"Don't  sleep  too  sound,"  I  said,  "or  you  may  find 
your  whisky  gone  in  the  morning.  You  can't  com- 


220    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

plain  if  it  is.-  You  said  yourself  that  that  whisky 
is  the  property  of  anyone  who  can  get  it." 

"Look  here/'  said  Patterson,  "if  you  really  believe 
they're  going  to  try  and  break  into  my  house,  why 
not  spend  the  night  here?  I'll  sit  up  if  you'll  keep 
me  company." 

"I  can't  do  that,"  I  said.  "I'm  too  sleepy.  I  was 
up  the  greater  part  of  last  night,  and  I've  had  a  hard 
day.  I'm  not  as  young  as  I  was,  Patterson,  and  I 
have  to  be  careful." 

"Then  I'll  go  to  bed,  too,"  said  Patterson.  "But 
if  you  will  stay  with  me,  and  they  really  come — 
which  they  won't — we  could  open  the  door  and  invite 
them  in.  It  would  be  rather  fun  to  see  their  faces  if 
we  did  that." 

Up  to  that  moment  I  had  not  thought  of  taking 
any  part  in  the  burglary.  I  had  fully  intended  to 
spend  the  night  in  my  own  bed  and  wait  till  the  next 
morning  to  hear  what  happened.  But  when  Patter- 
son spoke,  I  began  to  see  that  I  should  miss  a  good 
deal  of  amusement  if  I  stayed  at  home.  One  more 
night  out  of  bed  would  not  really  make  much  differ- 
ence to  me,  and  it  might  be  a  long  time  before  I  had 
the  chance  of  watching  another  burglary.  But  I  re- 
fused Patterson's  invitation. 

"I  couldn't  honourably  join  your  side  now,"  I  said. 
"Molly  and  Tommy  have  discussed  their  plans  in  my 
hearing.  They  trusted  me.  It  would  be  a  mean 
thing,  after  hearing  all  I  have  heard,  to  lie  in  wait 
for  them  in  your  house.  No,  no,  Patterson.  I  can't 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    221 

do  it.  If  I  take  any  part  in  the  affair  it  must  be  as  a 
burglar,  not  as  a  supporter  of  law  and  order." 

"Oh,  all  right!"  said  Patterson.  "If  you  feel  that 
way  about  it  there's  no  more  to  be  said,  but  I  should 
have  thought  you'd  have  been  more  comfortable  in 
the  house  with  me  than  hanging  about  in  the  street. 
And,  look  here,  don't  let  them  try  and  get  over  the 
wall  into  the  back-yard.  I  suppose  it's  by  the  wall 
into  the  yard  they're  arranging  to  come?" 

"That's  the  plan,  I  believe,"  I  said. 

"It's  just  the  sort  of  plan  they  would  make,"  said 
Patterson,  "so  you'd  better  tell  them  to  remember 
that  the  wall's  in  a  horribly  rickety  state.  All  the 
stones  on  the  top  are  loose.  It  would  be  quite  easy  to 
get  a  nasty  fall." 

"I'll  warn  Miss  Floyd  if  I  see  her,"  I  said,  "but  I 
haven't  quite  made  up  my  mind,  yet,  whether  I'm 
going  to  join  the  fray  or  not.  I  can't  well  go  back  to 
them  and  deliver  a  message  like  that  direct  from  you. 
They  might  think  I'd  been  giving  them  away.  By 
the  way,  don't  forget  about  the  police.  That  ser- 
geant of  yours  always  seems  to  me  a  stupid  sort  of 
man.  If  he  happens  to  be  patrolling  the  street  while 
they're  climbing  the  wall,  he'd  be  sure  to  arrest 
them." 

"I'll  tell  him  to  patrol  somewhere  else  all  night," 
said  Patterson. 

That  seemed  to  me  to  settle  everything  satisfac- 
torily, so  I  said  good  night  to  Patterson  and  went 
home. 


222   ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

I  found  Tommy  enjoying  a  heavy  meal.  The  poor 
boy  had  had  very  little  to  eat  all  day,  and  I  was 
not  surprised  to  find  that  he  was  exceedingly  hun- 
gry. I  felt  bound  to  warn  him  not  to  eat  too  much. 

"If  you  gorge  yourself,"  I  said,  "you'll  go  to 
sleep  afterwards,  and  very  likely  not  wake  up  till 
late  to-morrow  morning." 

"I  was  rather  afraid  of  that,"  said  Tommy,  "so  I 
borrowed  your  alarm  clock.  I  set  it  for  half -past 
twelve." 

"Rather  early  for  your  start,  isn't  it?"  I  said.  "I 
don't  know  when  Patterson  goes  to  bed,  but  lots  of 
people  sit  up  till  twelve,  and  if  he  does  he  won't 
really  be  sound  asleep  at  half  past." 

"Oh,  that's  all  right!"  said  Tommy.  "We're  not 
going  to  start  till  two.  But  I  have  to  be  down  at  the 
hotel  before  one.  There  are  some  things  I've  prom- 
ised to  bring  to  Molly.  And  there  are  lots  of  ar- 
rangements to  be  made." 

My  house,  so  far  as  I  know,  contains  no  dark  lan- 
terns, false  beards,  or  disguises  of  any  kind,  indeed 
none  of  the  accessories  of  successful  burglary.  But 
I  did  not  ask  Tommy  what  he  was  going  to  take 
down  to  Molly.  He  gave  me  no  time  to  ask  him 
anything. 

"Dr.  Floyd  goes  to  bed  before  eleven  every 
night,"  he  said,  "so  he'll  be  asleep  when  I  get  there, 
and  Molly  will  let  me  in." 

"You  haven't  confided  your  plans  to  Dr.  Floyd, 
then,"  I  said. 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    223 

"Oh,  Lord,  no!"  said  Tommy.  "He's  not  that 
kind  of  man  at  all.  In  fact  Molly  is  to  go  to  bed  at 
ten-thirty,  so  as  to  put  him  off  the  scent.  Not  really 
go  to  bed,  you  know,  only  pretend." 

"I  hope  she  has  an  alarm  clock  too,"  I  said.  "It 
would  be  very  awkward  for  you  if  she  went  to  sleep, 
and  you  had  to  begin  the  night  by  breaking  into  the 
hotel." 

"Oh,  that'll  be  all  right,"  said  Tommy,  "Sabina  is 
to  stay  awake  too.  They  won't  both  go  to  sleep." 

"Sabina  is  joining  the  party  then?" 

"Yes.  She's  a  real  sport,  that  girl.  Simply 
jumped  at  the  chance  as  soon  as  it  was  mentioned 
to  her.  We  thought  she'd  be  quite  useful  to  us.  She 
says  she  can  find  her  way  round  Patterson's  house, 
however  dark  it  is,  and  she  told  the  aunt  to  leave  the 
back  door  open.  The  aunt  said  she'd  have  the  ham- 
per ready  for  us  in  the  scullery,  if  she  can  get  hold 
of  it.  Patterson's  had  it  in  his  sitting-room  so  far 
and  hasn't  let  her  near  it.  However,  she  thinks  she 
can  sneak  round  after  he's  in  bed  and  lug  it  into  the 
scullery.  Not  that  it  really  matters  where  it  is.  We 
can  get  it  unless  he  takes  it  up  to  bed  with  him." 

"I  never  heard  of  a  better  planned  burglary,"  I 
said. 

"It  is  pretty  well  worked  out,"  said  Tommy,  com- 
placently. "You  see  I've  read  quite  a  lot  of  books 
about  burglars  and  I  know  that  the  great  mistake 
which  all  criminals  make  is  not  providing  before- 
hand for  every  possible  contingency." 


224    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

There  was,  as  I  knew,  one  contingency  which 
Tommy  had  not  contemplated.  But  no  criminal, 
however  astute,  could  possibly  foresee  that  his  vic- 
tim would  be  willing  to  offer  him  a  friendly  wel- 
come when  he  arrived. 

Tommy  was  in  a  condition  of  pleasurable  excite- 
ment. But  his  appetite  did  not  fail  him.  He  ate 
an  enormous  meal.  Then  he  put  the  alarm  clock  on 
the  corner  of  the  sideboard  and  lay  down  on  the 
sofa. 

"You'll  excuse  me,  won't  you,  Uncle  Terence," 
he  said.  "I  think  I  ought  to  snatch  a  little  sleep 
when  I  can  get  it.  I  can  always  drop  off  when  I 
want  to,  at  any  hour  of  the  day.  It's  a  great  thing 
to  be  able  to  do  that." 

I  liked  the  serious  way  in  which  he  took  the 
burglary  business.  That  touch  about  being  able  to 
go  to  sleep  for  a  short  spell  took  me  straight  back 
to  my  own  youth.  I  remember  reading  of  the  Duke 
of  Wellington,  and,  I  think,  of  several  other  military 
commanders,  that  they  possessed  this  useful  power. 
Captains  of  ships  have  it,  according  to  the  writers 
of  our  best  adventure  stories.  So  have  muscular 
heroes  of  all  kinds.  I  have  no  doubt  that  Tommy 
reads  books  very  like  those  I  read  forty-five  years 
ago  and  they  produce  the  same  effect  on  his  mind, 
as  they  did  on  mine.  He  felt  adventurous  and 
heroic  with  a  burglary  before  him,  and  he  was  pre- 
paring himself  for  action  according  to  the  most  ap- 
proved receipts. 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    225 

He  really  did  go  to  sleep  while  I  stood  watching 
him,  with  the  alarm  clock  ticking  loudly  in  his  ear. 
I  stole  from  the  room  on  tip  toe,  but  I  need  not 
have  been  careful  to  avoid  making  a  noise.  Tommy 
slept  through  a  visit  from  my  housekeeper  who  went 
into  the  room  to  clear  away  the  plates,  and  I  know 
no  woman  who  can  make  more  noise  with  plates — 
short  of  actually  breaking  them — than  my  house- 
keeper. I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  would  go  my- 
self and  waken  Tommy  at  twelve-thirty,  instead  of 
leaving  him  dependent  on  the  alarm  clock.  I  know 
that  alarm  clock  well,  for  I  have  had  it  for  years, 
and  it  is  not  by  any  means  a  trustworthy  ma- 
chine. 

It  turned  out  in  the  end  that  the  clock  was  more 
trustworthy  than  I  was.  I  woke  with  a  start,  not 
knowing  that  I  had  been  asleep,  at  one  o'clock.  I 
went  into  the  dining-room  at  once,  and  found  that 
Tommy  had  gone. 

I  made  up  my  mind  to  go  after  him. 

The  night  was  dark,  for  the  clouds  which  had  col- 
lected in  the  sky  after  the  thunderstorm  had  not 
blown  away,  but  I  was  able  to  recognise  Sergeant 
Morris  and  Constable  Moran,  shortly  after  I  passed 
through  my  own  gate.  They  were  walking  away 
from  the  town;  which  showed  me  that  Patterson 
had  kept  his  promise,  and  sent  his  men  to  patrol 
some  distant  road. 

"Good-night,  sergeant/'  I  said.  "Going  out  into 
the  country?" 


226    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

The  sergeant  knew  my  voice  and  told  me  that  he 
was  going  a  couple  of  miles  along  the  road  and  then 
coming  back  again.  I  hoped  he  would  take  a  good 
while  over  his  four  miles,  long  enough  to  give  us 
time  to  finish  the  burglary. 

After  meeting  the  police  I  saw  no  one  else  till  I 
reached  the  door  of  the  hotel.  There  I  almost  ran 
into  a  man  who  was  lurking  in  the  shadow  of  the 
porch.  It  was  too  dark  for  me  to  see  who  he  was ; 
but  he  recognised  me  at  once,  perhaps  by  the  sound 
of  my  steps  in  the  street,  perhaps  by  the  outline  of 
my  figure  before  I  entered  the  porch. 

"Good  evening,  your  Reverence,"  he  said. 

I  recognised  the  voice.  It  was  that  of  my  friend 
Poacher  Quin. 

"Hullo,  Quin,"  I  said.  "I  thought  you'd  be  at 
home  in  your  bed/' 

"It's  where  I  ought  to  be,"  said  Quin,  "and  it's 
where  I  would  be  if  I  had  any  sense."* 

"Why  aren't  you,  then?" 

"I  was  in  my  bed,"  said  Quin.  "I  was  in  it  by  ten 
o'clock;  and  I'd  be  there  still  only  I  couldn't  sleep 
with  thinking  of  what  might  be  happening  to  the 
young  lady  and  Master  Tom." 

"If  you'd  take  my  advice,"  I  said,  "you'd  go  back 
to  your  bed  now.  They'll  be  all  right." 

"They'll  not  be  all  right,"  said  Quin,  "unless  they 
give  up  the  notion  of  taking  things  out  of  Patter- 
son's house.  Maybe  they  have." 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    227 

"No,  they  haven't.  They  mean  to  go  through 
with  the  burglary." 

"If  that's  the  way  of  it,"  said  Quin,  "I  have  my 
mind  made  up  to  go  along  with  them." 

Considering  that  he  fully  expected  to  be  shot  by 
Patterson,  that  was  a  very  heroic  resolve,  and  I  ad- 
mired the  spirit  of  it.  But  I  was  painfully  aware 
that  Quin's  presence  would  create  an  element  of 
danger.  Molly  and  Tommy  would  be  safe  enough 
even  if  they  came  on  Patterson  unexpectedly  and 
told  him  to  hold  his  hands  up.  But  I  could  not  be 
sure  what  would  happen  if  Quin  were  discovered 
dragging  hampers  about  Patterson's  kitchen  at  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning. 

"You'd  far  better  go  home,"  I  said.  "What' s 
the  good  of  running  unnecessary  risks?" 

"I'd  never  sleep  easy  again,"  said  Quin,  "if  them 
two  ones  was  to  be  shot,  which  is  likely  enough,  and 
me  lying  quiet  in  my  bed." 

I  should  never  have  suspected  Quin  of  that  kind 
of  chivalrous  self-sacrifice,  and  I  began  to  feel  that  I 
ought  not  to  kill  his  nobler  impulses  with  counsels  of 
prudence.  He  accepts  a  grave  responsibility  who 
persuades  the  common  man  to  be  a  hero.  When  the 
hour  of  high  emotion  has  passed,  and  the  hot  mood 
has  cooled  down,  there  are  likely  to  be  things  which 
are  very  hard  to  bear.  The  soldier  who  comes  back 
from  the  war  with  only  one  leg  and  finds  it  impos- 
sible to  earn  a  decent  living  is  a  continuous  and  un- 
bearable reproach  to  the  preacher  of  patriotism  who 


228   ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

bade  him  go.  But  he  who  induces  a  hero  to  descend 
to  the  level  of  a  common  man  does  something  much 
worse.  He  is  responsible  afterwards  for  a  maimed 
soul,  a  far  more  horrible  thing  than  a  body  without 
a  leg.  That  is  what  I  felt  when  Quin  declared  his 
intention  of  sharing  the  risks  of  the  burglary. 

"Very  well,"  I  said.  "I  don't  think  they  want 
you  in  the  least;  but  you  can  go  with  them  if  you 
like.  I  dare  say  you  feel  that  you  ought  to  keep  an 
eye  on  Sabina.  If  anything  were  to  happen  to  her 
you  would  be  sorry  afterwards  when  you  remem- 
bered that  it  was  you  who  drove  her  into  it." 

Poacher  Quin  may  have  had  some  natural  affec- 
tion for  his  daughter;  but  if  he  had  he  chose  to  con- 
ceal it  carefully. 

"Sure,  what  would  happen  the  like  of  Sabina?" 
he  asked;  "and  what  harm  if  something  did?  She's 
a  wild  slip  of  a  girl  in  spite  of  all  I  done  in  the  way 
of  trying  to  beat  sense  into  her.  She'll  come  to  no 
good  any  way.  It's  not  her  I'm  thinking  of  but  the 
young  lady  and  Master  Tom." 

A  light  was  shining  faintly  through  the  drawn 
blind  of  a  window,  on  the  second  floor  of  the  hotel, 
the  window  which  belonged  to  the  Coffee  Room.  I 
picked  up  a  handful  of  fine  gravel  and  flung  it 
against  the  glass.  A  minute  later  the  window  was 
opened  and  Molly's  head  appeared. 

"Who's  that  ?"  she  said.  "Go  away  at  once  or  I'll 
send  for  the  police." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

MOLLY'S    nerves   were   evidently    jumpy. 
She  must  have  thought  that  we  were  real 
burglars  come  to  rob  the  hotel  just  when 
she  was  planning  to  break  into  Patterson's  house; 
or,  perhaps,  Sinn  Feiners,  eager  to  possess  them- 
selves of  arms,  who  had  heard  of  King  Cormac's 
sword.     But  whatever  she  thought  she  was  in  no 
position  to  appeal  to  the  police. 

Her  threat  reminded  me  of  a  story  current  after 
our  1916  rebellion  in  Dublin,  of  an  old  woman  who 
managed  amid  the  general  confusion  to  steal  six 
pairs  of  boots  out  of  a  shop.  She  was  going  home 
with  her  booty  when  she  was  beset  by  another,  a 
stronger  looter,  who  took  the  boots  from  her.  She 
complained  bitterly  that  the  police  failed  to  do 
their  duty.  It  was,  she  said,  a  scandalous  thing  that 
she  should  be  openly  robbed  in  the  streets  of  Dublin, 
and  that  no  one  should  be  arrested  for  the  crime. 
I  intended  to  tell  that  story  when  I  got  into  the 
hotel.  I  forgot  to  do  so  when  the  time  came  because 
Molly's  appearance  startled  me. 

Tommy  came  down  and  opened  the  door  for  us, 
as  soon  as  we  made  it  plain  that  we  were  friends  and 
fellow-conspirators.  He  invited  us  to  go  upstairs, 
and,  stepping  softly  so  as  not  to  wake  Dr.  Floyd,  we 

229 


230   ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

went  into  the  Coffee  Room.  There  I  saw  Molly 
dressed  in  riding  breeches,  gaiters,  and  a  dark  blue 
blouse.  She  was  standing  on  tip-toe  in  front  of  the 
fireplace,  trying  to  see  as  much  of  herself  as  pos- 
sible in  the  mirror  over  the  chimney-piece.  The  blue 
blouse  was  probably  her  own.  The  riding  breeches 
and  gaiters  were  mine,  and  were  far  too  big  for 
Molly.  I  understood  then  what  it  was  that  Tommy 
had  to  bring  down  to  her  from  the  rectory,  and 
why  he  wanted  to  be  at  the  hotel  an  hour  before 
the  burglary  was  timed  to  begin.  Molly  required 
time  to  dress  herself  in  these  unaccustomed  gar- 
ments. She  turned  to  me  when  I  entered  the  room. 

"Do  I  look  like  a  Sinn  Feiner?"  she  said,  "a  real 
Sinn  Feiner?" 

"Exactly  like  one/'  I  said.  "No  real  Sinn  Feiner 
I  have,  ever  seen  looked  the  part  more  thoroughly. 
But  why  do  you  want  to?  There's  nothing  political 
about  your  burglary.  It's  simply  an  ordinary 
crime." 

"Tommy  thought  it  would  be  safer,"  said  Molly, 
"if  we  dressed  up  as  Sinn  Feiners." 

"I  have  been  reading  the  papers  a  bit  since  I've 
been  over  here  with  you,"  said  Tommy;  "and,  as 
far  as  I  can  make  out,  Sinn  Feiners  are  never 
arrested,  whatever  they  do;  so  I  thought " 

What  Tommy  thought  was  plain  enough,  and 
quite  a  natural  thing  for  anyone  to  think  who  read 
only  one  paper.  If  Tommy  had  read  a  different 
paper  he  would  have  learned  that  Sinn  Feiners  are 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    231 

the  only  people  who  ever  are  arrested  in  Ireland, 
and  that  they  are  carried  off  and  imprisoned  whether 
they  do  anything  wrong  or  not. 

"I've  got  masks,"  said  Molly.  "Tommy  said  we 
ought  to  have  them,  so  I  borrowed  some  stuff  from 
Mrs.  Maher  and  made  them.  Black,  of  course." 

Tommy's  information  about  Irish  crime  was  not 
up  to  date.  We  used  to  wear  masks  when  we  went 
out  on  raids ;  but  now  we"  have  given  up  hiding  our 
faces.  I  do  not  suppose  we  shall  take  to  masks 
again  unless  our  war  against  England  is  intensified 
by  the  use  of  poisoned  gas.  Then,  of  course,  we 
shall  have  to  wear  them,  but  they  will  not  be  made 
of  black  stuff  borrowed  from  Mrs.  Maher. 

"Masks  are  quite  unnecessary,"  I  said,  "They 
used  to  be  worn  a  good  deal  by  the  best  criminals, 
but  they've  gone  completely  out  of  fashion  lately." 

"That's  a  pity,"  said  Molly.  "But  I  think  we'll 
use  them  all  the  same.  I  wouldn't  like  to  waste 
the  stuff  Mrs.  Maher  gave  us.  It  was  the  lining 
of  an  old  coat  of  hers,  and  we've  cut  it  up.  Besides, 
the  masks  I've  made  are  rather  sweet." 

She  picked  up  a  scrap  of  shiny  black  stuff  from 
the  table  beside  her  and  fitted  it  over  her  eyes. 

"Quite  like  a  conspirator  in  a  secret  society,  isn't 
it?"  she  said.  "But  the  worst  of  it  is  that  I've  only 
made  three,  and  now  that  you  and  Mr.  Poacher  Quin 
have  come  to  help  us  we'll  want  two  more." 

"It's  awfully  good  of  you  to  come  to  help  us, 
Uncle  Terence,"  said  Tommy. 


232    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

"I've  not  come  to  help,"  I  said.  "It's  far  better 
for  you  to  understand  that  clearly  from  the  start. 
I've  simply  come  to  look  on.'* 

"Oh!"  said  Molly. 

She  was  disappointed,  but  her  "Oh!"  also 
expressed  contempt  for  me.  I  daresay  I  deserved 
it.  The  part  of  an  onlooker  is  not  a  heroic  one. 

"But  Quin  is  going  to  help,"  I  said.  "He's  pre- 
pared to  do  anything.  In  fact,  he  rather  craves  the 
post  of  greatest  danger." 

"What  I  was  thinking,"  said  Quin,  "was  that 
your  ladyship  mightn't  find  it  too  easy  to  get 
over  that  wall.  It's  a  nasty  wall,  so  it  is,  and  the 
stones  on  the  top  of  it  is  loose.  And  you'd  be  none 
the  worse  for  somebody  to  give  you  a  hand  from 
the  top  while  Master  Tom  would  be  giving  you  a 
leg  up  from  down  below." 

"I  took  a  look  at  that  wall,"  said  Molly,  "and 
it  is  a  bit  beastly.  That  was  one  of  the  reasons 
why  I  put  on  these  clothes.  A  skirt  is  a  nuisance 
for  climbing  in." 

She  looked  down  a£  my  riding  breeches,  and  I 
could  see  that  she  did  not  think  much  of  them. 
But  she  might  have  expressed  some  thanks  for  the 
loan.  They  may  not  fit  her,  but  they  are  very  use- 
ful to  me,  and  I  did  not  press  them  on  her. 

"What  I  was  thinking,"  said  Quin,  "was  that  if 
I  was  to  get  on  top  of  the  wall,  and  was  to  pull 
your  ladyship  up  to  me,  that  Sabina  and  Master 
Tom  could  pass  the  hamper  up  to  us,  and  we  could 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    233 

drop  it  over  on  the  other  side.  We  could  do  the 
same  thing  with  the  one  we're  going  to  get  when  we 
have  it." 

Quin  had  evidently  been  working  the  whole  thing 
out,  and  was  likely  to  prove  the  most  valuable  ally. 
Unfortunately  there  were  two  strong  objections  to 
his  joining  the  party.  One,  which  I  had  already 
considered,  was  that  Patterson  would  almost  cer- 
tainly shoot  him  if  he  saw  him.  The  other  was  that 
Quin  has  a  fatal  attraction  for  the  police.  There 
are  people  who  are  peculiarly  attractive  to  mosqui- 
toes, midges,  and  other  insects.  They  are  horribly 
bitten  and  stung  while  their  friends  escape.  Other 
people  attract  dogs.  Strange  curs  follow  them  in 
the  streets  and  refuse  to  be  shaken  off.  Pets  desert 
their  masters  and  go  to  them.  I  myself  suffer  from 
being  attractive  to  cats,  animals  which  I  detest.  If 
there  is  a  cat  anywhere  in  a  house  when  I  enter  it 
the  creature  comes  to  me  at  once  and  tries  to  sit 
on  my  shoulder.  Some  such  perverted  instinct 
draws  the  police  to  Poacher  Quin.  If  there  were 
only  one  policeman  in  Ireland,  and  he  were  stationed 
on  Fair  Head,  he  would  find  his  way,  inevitably,  to 
Poacher  Quin,  even  if  he  were  living  in  County 
Kerry. 

I  do  not  know  that  any  scientific  explanation  has 
ever  been  offered  of  this  kind  of  animal  magnetism, 
but  the  fact  of  its  existence  can  scarcely  be  disputed. 
If,  after  an  explanation  has  been  found,  a  preventa- 
tive  can  be  suggested,  it  will  be  a  great  boon  to  all 


234   ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

who  are  afflicted  by  their  own  attractiveness,  and 
especially  to  those,  like  Poacher  Quin,  who  are  be- 
set by  the  police. 

"I  hope,"  I  said,  "that  Sergeant  Morris  won't 
come  along  the  street  during  your  operations." 

"You'd  better  keep  watch,  Uncle  Terence,"  said 
Tommy,  "and  warn  us  if  you  see  anyone  coming." 

"I've  told  you  already,"  I  said,  "that  I'm  not 
going  to  help  you  in  any  way.  I'm  going  to  do 
nothing  but  look  on." 

"But  that  would  be  looking  on,"  said  Molly;  "at 
least  it  would  be  looking  out,  which  is  much  the 


same." 


"And  you  needn't  give  yourself  away  by  shout- 
ing," said  Tommy.  "All  you'd  have  to  do  would  be 
whistle  if  you  saw  the  police  coming  along." 

"Just  as  if  you  were  some  ordinary  person  going 
home,"  said  Molly,  "who  happened  to  be  whistling 
as  he  went." 

"Ordinary  people  don't  go  whistling  along  the 
road  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,"  I  said.  "No 
man,  unless  he  was  drunk,  would  whistle  at  that 
hour." 

"You  might  pretend  to  be  drunk,"  said  Tommy. 
"Then  if  you  saw  anyone  coming  you  could  just 
stagger  along  whistling  some  tune,  and  we'd  know 
what  you  meant." 

"Any  tune  would  do,"  said  Molly.  "  'God  save 
the  King,'  or  anything." 

"Unless  a  man  was  stark  mad  as  well  as  drunk," 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    235 

I  said,  "he  wouldn't  whistle  'God  save  the  King' 
in  Carrigahooly  either  by  day  or  night."  . 

"It  doesn't  matter  what  tune  it  is,"  said  Molly. 

"Very  well,"  I  said.  "I'll  do  this  much  for  you, 
I'll  stand  in  the  archway  beside  Mahony's  shop, 
opposite  your  wall,  and  if  I  see  the  police  coming 
I'll  whistle,  'We  won't  go  home  till  morning.'  That 
seems  a  likely  tune  for  a  man  to  whistle  after  a  con- 
vivial evening." 

"Thanks  awfully,"  said  Tommy. 

"It  won't  deceive  the  police  in  the  least,"  I  said, 
"They  know  perfectly  well  that  nobody  can  get 
drunk  in  Carrigahooly  nowadays,  except  you,  Quin, 
and  remember,  if  the  police  do  come,  it's  no  use  your 
appealing  to  me  to  certify  that  you're  respectable 
people.  I  shall  disown  you." 

Molly  whistled  the  first  half  of  the  tune  through. 

"Sure  you  know  it?"  she  said.  "It  wouldn't  do 
to  whistle  the  wrong  tune,  or  to  whistle  it  so  that 
we  didn't  recognise  it." 

"I've  known  that  tune,"  I  said,  "since  I  was 
Tommy's  age." 

"All  right,"  said  Molly.  "I  didn't  mean  to  hurt 
your  feelings.  And  now  if  we  had  Sabina  we 
might  start.  Where  is  Sabina  ?  You  go  and  get  her, 
Tommy." 

Sabina,  when  she  appeared,  was  not  so  elaborately 
dressed  for  the  performance  as  Molly.  The  only 
unusual  part  of  her  costume  was  a  pair  of  white 
tennis  shoes,  several  sizes  too  large  for  her,  which 


236   ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

I  recognised  as  mine.  They  too  must  have  been 
among  the  things  which  Tommy  brought  down  from 
the  rectory.  They  are  the  only  pair  of  tennis  shoes 
which  I  own,  and  I  did  not  like  the  idea  of  Sabina 
cutting  the  soles  to  pieces  climbing  stone  walls. 
But  I  did  not  intend  to  say  anything  about  them. 
It  was  her  father  who  brought  up  the  subject. 
"What's  them  things  you  have  on  your  feet, 
Sabina?"  he  said. 

"It's  a  pair  of  shoes,"  said  Sabina. 

That  is  the  kind  of  obvious  answer  which  irritates 
a  questioner,  by  implying  that  he  must  be  a  fool  not 
to  be  able  to  find  out  so  much  for  himself.  It 
irritated  Quin. 

"You  may  take  them  off  then,"  he  said.  "Cock 
the  likes  of  you  up  with  white  shoes.  The  next 
thing  you'll  be  wanting  will  be  silk  stockings." 

"It  was  the  young  lady  bid  me  wear  them,"  said 
Sabina. 

"She's  quite  right,  Quin,"  I  said.  "All  efficient 
criminals  go  about  in  rubber-soled  shoes.  They 
make  far  less  noise  than  leather." 

"She'd  make  no  noise  at  all,"  said  Quin,  "if  she 
was  in  her  bare  feet.  Take  them  shoes  off  you, 
Sabina." 

I  think  the  girl  wanted  to  wear  the  shoes,  though 
she  cannot  have  found  them  comfortable.  But  she 
sat  down  at  once  and  took  them  off.  Her  obedience 
was  a  fine  witness  to  the  excellence  of  Quin's  system 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    237 

of  educating  girls.  When  she  had  got  rid  of  the 
shoes,  she  began  to  take  off  her  stockings. 

"She  needn't  do  that,  need  she,  Quin?"  I  said. 

"If  I  can't  have  the  shoes/'  said  Sabina,  "I'm  as 
well  without  the  stockings.  I'd  only  have  them 
wore  into  holes  tramping  the  roads  with  them  and 
climbing  walls." 

There  were  already  so  many  holes  in  the  feet  of 
Sabina's  stockings  that  they  could  scarcely  have 
been  made  any  worse,  even  if  she  had  walked  over 
broken  glass.  I  suppose  she  was  afraid  they  might 
disappear  altogether  from  the  ankles  down. 

Then  I  saw  that  it  was  not  altogether  in  order 
to  save  the  girl  from  the  sin  of  vanity  that  her 
father  made  her  take  off  my  tennis  shocks.  He  had 
unlaced  his  own  boots  and  was  putting  on  the  shoes 
himself. 

"I  don't  mind  lending  them  to  you  in  the  least, 
Quin,"  I  said,  "but  I  hope  you'll  give  back  what's 
left  of  them  to-morrow.  They're  mine,  you  know." 

Molly  took  no  part  in  the  discussion  about  the 
shoes.  This  rather  surprised  me.  It  was  she,  so  I 
gathered,  who  had  originally  told  Sabina  to  wear 
them.  I  should  have  expected  her  to  make  a  pro- 
test against  Qum's  order.  She  did  not  do  so  because 
she  was  busy  making  a  mask,  and  was  in  no  position 
to  attend  to  anything  else.  When  she  had  finished 
it  she  ordered  Quin  to  stand  up  and  try  it  on. 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Quin,  "if  one  of  them  things 
would  be  much  use  to  me.  They're  well  enough 


238   ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

for  your  ladyship  and  the  young  gentleman,  and 
there' d  be  no  harm  in  Sabina  wearing  one  if  it 
pleases  her.  But  it's  my  belief  I'd  be  better  with- 
out it." 

"The  great  thing,"  said  Tommy,  "is  not  to  be 
recognised.  If  you're  wearing  one,  Mr.  Patterson 
won't  be  able  to  swear  to  you  afterwards  even  if 
he  happens  to  wake  up  and  see  you." 

"If  he  wakes  up  and  sees  me,"  said  Quin, 
"there'll  be  no  need  for  him  to  swear  to  anything 
afterwards,  only  to  my  dead  body.  He'll  shoot,  so 
he  will." 

I  became  more  and  more  convinced  that  Poacher 
Quin  is  an  unusually  brave  man.  The  cool  way  in 
which  he  faced  the  prospect  of  death  would  have 
put  many  professional  warriors  to  shame. 

Molly  shook  the  mask  she  held  in  her  hand  like 
a  small  flag.  She  wanted  to  have  her  party  uniform 
in  appearance  so  far  as  their  faces  were  concerned, 
and  was  not  going  to  be  balked  by  Quin. 

"Stand  up,"  she  said,  "and  let  me  see  if  it  fits 
you." 

She  put  the  mask  over  Quin's  eyes  and  tied  it 
behind  his  ears  with  the  tape  she  had  sewed  to  the 
corner  of  it. 

"I  might  as  well  be  an  ass  with  a  pair  of  blinkers 
on  me,"  said  Quin. 

I  do  not  know  whether  it  was  his  appearance  or 
his  comparison  of  himself  to  an  ass  which  affected 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    239 

Sabina.  She  became  a  victim  of  a  fit  of  giggling, 
and  unfortunately  she  giggled  very  loud. 

"If  you  do  that,"  said  Molly,  "you'll  wake  father. 
He's  in  the  next  room,  and  he  doesn't  sleep  very 
sound." 

That  did  not  stop  Sabina.  She  is  a  girl  of  great 
courage,  inherited  perhaps  from  her  father.  If  I 
were  Poacher  Quin's  daughter  I  certainly  should  not 
venture  to  laugh  at  him. 

"If  you  don't  stop  that  noise  this  instant  minute," 
said  Quin,  "I'll  give  you  what'll  cure  you  of  laugh- 
ing for  the  next  year,  anyway." 

Sabina  certainly  understood  the  meaning  of  the 
threat,  for  she  stopped  laughing  abruptly.  But 
Quin's  speech  was  not  always  easy  for  strangers  to 
follow.  I  saw  that  Molly  was  slightly  puzzled. 

"He  means,"  I  explained,  "that  he'll  beat  her  to 
such  an  extent  that  she'll  cry  instead  of  laugh  for 
the  next  twelve  months." 

"Your  Reverence,"  said  Quin,  "am  I  to  wear  this 
contraption  on  my  face?"  He  fingered  the  mask 
disconsolately  as  he  spoke. 

"I  think  you'd  better,"  I  said.  "Miss  Floyd  wants 
you  to,  and  it's  a  pity  to  spoil  the  fine  sacrifice  you're 
making  for  her  sake  by  disputing  about  a  mere  trifle. 
Besides,  men  who  are  condemned  to  be  shot  are 
always  blindfolded,  and  you've  just  said  that  that's 
what  you  expect,  so  you  may  as  well  conform  to  the 
usual  custom,  and  perish  decently." 

I  did  not  think  that  Quin's  mask  was  likely  to 


240   ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

make  much  real  difference.  But  Patterson  had 
distinctly  told  me  that  he  would  fire  on  Quin  if  he 
saw  him.  He  would  not,  I  hoped,  take  the  risk  of 
firing  upon  a  masked  man  whom  he  could  not  recog- 
nise, who  might  possibly  be  Tommy  or  even  Molly. 
He  would  certainly  hesitate  if  he  happened  to  notice 
the  white  tennis  shoes. 

"We're  all  ready  now,  aren't  we?"  said  Molly. 

"We're  as  ready  as  we  ever  will  be,"  said  Quin, 
mournfully. 

"Very  well,"  said  Molly.  "Tommy,  you  and 
Quin  get  the  hamper.  Mrs.  Maher  said  she'd  leave 
it  in  the  kitchen  all  ready  for  us.  Sabina,  put  out 
the  lamp." 

"One  minute,"  I  said.  "Are  you  sure  it's  all 
right  about  Patterson's  back  door?  It  would  be 
awkward  if  you  found  it  locked." 

"You  told  your  aunt  to  leave  it  open,  didn't  you, 
Sabina?"  said  Molly. 

"I  did,"  said  Sabina,  "and  she  said  she  would, 
and  what'-s  more  she  said  she'd  leave  a  candle  and 
a  box  of  matches  on  the  corner  of  the  sink,  on  the 
right  hand  side  as  you  go  in,  so  as  we'd  be  able  to 
strike  a  light  and  not  be  tripping  over  anything  in 
the  kitchen." 

"That  sister  of  yours,  Quin,"  I  said,  "has  a  head 
on  her  shoulders.  She's  thought  of  everything." 

"Come  on,"  said  Molly.  "There's  no  use  stand- 
ing here  talking.  It's  long  after  two  o'clock." 

I  went  over  to  the  window  which  Molly  had  left 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    241 

open  after  putting  out  her  head  to  threaten  us  with 
the  police.     I  shut  it  quietly. 

"There's  no  use  having  Mrs.  Maher  robbed  by 
somebody  else,"  I  said,  "while  we're  off  burgling 
Patter  son&" 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

TOMMY  and  Quin  left  the  hotel  first, 
carrying  the  hamper  of  fish  which  was 
to  be  put  into  Patterson's  kitchen.  Molly 
and  Sabina  followed  them.  I  lingered  behind.  My 
idea  was  to  follow  at  a  distance,  keeping  in  touch 
but  far  enough  off  to  be  able  to  pretend  that  I  was 
an  independent  wayfarer  unconnected  with  the 
party.  It  was  not  likely  that  anyone  would  be 
abroad  in  the  streets  of  Carrigahooly  at  2  a.m.,  but 
there  is  always  a  chance  that  the  doctor  might  have 
been  called  to  an  urgent  case  of  illness,  or  that 
some  wakeful  person,  hearing  the  noise  of  foot- 
steps, might  look  out  of  a  window.  I  did  not  wish 
to  be  seen  in  the  company  of  four  masked  and  very 
suspicious  looking  characters. 

I  made  an  excuse  of  my  boot  lace,  and  stooped 
to  tie  it  as  Molly  and  Sabina  passed  through  the 
door.  I  felt  a  touch  on  my  shoulder  and  stood  up 
abruptly.  I  was  abominably  startled.  There  is 
something  about  a  surreptitious  midnight  expedition 
which  makes  a  man  nervous  even  if  he  is  innocent 
of  any  evil  design.  I  looked  round  and  saw  Mrs. 
Maher  standing  beside  me.  Her  appearance  would 
have  been  sufficient  to  frighten  me  at  any  ordinary 
time.  She  had  evidently  just  got  out  of  bed.  Her 

242 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    243 

head  was  surrounded  by  thin  wisps  of  greyish  hair, 
and  a  very  thin, , short  grey  pigtail  hung  down  her 
neck.  She  carried  a  guttering  candle  in  her  hand, 
and  its  light  emphasised  the  deep  lines  and  high 
bones  of  her  face.  She  wore  a  thick  dressing  gown, 
of  a  bluish  pink  colour,  which  I  believe  is  called — 
or  while  it  was  still  used  in  dyeing,  used  to  be  called 
— maroon.  She  had  unlaced  boots  on  her  stocking- 
less  feet.  Anyone  might  have  been  startled  by  see- 
ing Mrs.  Maher  suddenly  in  the  middle  of  the  night. 
But  it  was  a  relief  to  me  to  recognise  her.  I  quite 
feared,  when  I  felt  her  touch,  that  Sergeant  Morris 
had  found  me  and  was  going  to  ask  me  to  give  an 
account  of  myself. 

"Your  Reverence,"  she  said,  "was  always  a  good 
one  to  help  them  that  was  in  trouble,  and,  if  I  live 
to  be  a  hundred,  I'll  never  forget  what  you're  doing 
for  me  this  night." 

She  insisted  on  grasping  my  hand  and  squeezing 
it,  which  I  disliked.  I  knew  what  she  meant.  She 
thought  I  was  risking  my  life  and  liberty  by  burgling 
Patterson's  house  in  order  to  save  her  from  being 
fined;  whereas  I  would  not  have  risked  a  blistered 
heel  to  keep  her  out  of  prison.  As  an  honest  man 
I  could  not  accept  her  gratitude  without  a  protest. 
Besides,  the  feel  of  her  hard  hand  and  the  appear- 
ance of  her  skinny  arm,  emerging  from  the  sleeve 
of  the  maroon  dressing  gown,  made  me  shiver. 

"I'm  doing  nothing  at  all,"  I  said.    "If  you  want 


244    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

to  thank  anyone,  thank  Miss  Floyd,  and  Sabina,  and 
my  nephew." 

"I  will  thank  them,"  she  said,  "and  if  there's  e'er 
a  thing  I  can  do  for  any  one  of  them,  they  have  only 
to  ask.  If  it  was  the  clothes  off  my  back  I'd  give 
it  to  them." 

So  far  as  the  clothes  off  her  back  was  concerned, 
it  was  a  safe  offer.  I  do  not  suppose  that  even 
Sabina  would  have  taken  a  present  of  that  dressing 
gown. 

"But  your  Reverence " 

She  sank  her  voice  to  a  stealthy  whisper  and  then 
stopped  dead.  I  knew  that  there  was  a  request  of 
some  sort  coming.  I  had  suspected  that  all  along. 
Mrs.  Maher  is  not  the  kind  of  woman  who  gets 
out  of  bed  in  the  middle  of  the  night  merely  to 
express  gratitude. 

"If  it  would  be  convenient  and  pleasing  to  your 
Reverence,"  she  whispered. 

"Well?"  I  said,  "what  is  it?  Do  you  want  to 
come  with  us  ?" 

"I  do  not,"  said  Mrs.  Maher,  emphatically.  "But 
what  I  do  want  is,  that  my  name  shouldn't  be  men- 
tioned in  connexion  with  what's  going  on  to-night. 
The  police  has  a  terrible  strong  hold  on  a  woman  in 
my  position,  and  if  they  started  persecuting  me  I 
might  as  well  leave  the  town,  and  that's  what  they'd 
do  if  they  thought  I'd  had  any  hand  in  breaking  into 
Mr.  Patterson's  house." 

I  felt  I  could  safely  promise  that  Mrs.  Maher 's 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    245 

reputation  snould  not  suffer  through  anything  which 
Molly  did.  I  left  her  more  or  less  satisfied,  and  I 
hope  I  shall  never  have  another  interview  with  her 
in  the  middle  of  the  night. 

I  thought  that  my  talk  with  Mrs.  Maher  would 
have  given  the  burgling  party  time  to  get  some  way 
ahead  of  me  and  that  I  might  walk  briskly  towards 
Patterson's  house  without  overtaking  them.  But 
I  found  Molly  waiting  for  me  just  outside  the  hotel. 
Sabina,  so  I  learned,  had  been  summoned  by  her 
father  to  help  to  carry  the  hamper.  It  was  rather 
heavy,  and  no  doubt  it  suited  Quin  that  he  and 
Tommy  should  take  turns  at  one  side  of  it,  while 
Sabina,  without  any  relief,  carried  the  other. 

"It's  rather  dark,  isn't  it,"  said  Molly. 

It  struck  me  that  she  was  beginning  to  be  nervous. 
I  might  have  guessed  if  I  had  been  quick-witted  and 
observant  that  she  was  nervous  even  before  we  left 
the  hotel.  She  had  been  very  anxious  to  start,  and 
had  hustled  the  rest  of  us.  That  was  a  sign  that 
she  was  not  altogether  enjoying  herself,  though  I 
am  bound  to  say  that  she  kept  up  appearances  very 
well. 

"I  didn't  expect  it  to  be  quite  so  dark,"  she  said. 

"It  generally  is  darkish  at  this  hour,"  I  said. 

Molly  laid  her  hand  on  my  arm,  but  not  at  all 
in  the  way  she  had  taken  hold  of  it  before.  This 
time  she  was  not  trying  to  drag  me  forward  or  keep 
me  captive.  She  seemed  to  be  seeking  protection, 


246    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

and  the  kind  of  comfort  a  child  gets  from  the  touch 
of  a  grown-up  person. 

"I  almost  wish,"  she  said,  "that  we  hadn't  come." 

"Cheer  up,"  I  said;  "everybody  feels  that  way 
at  the  beginning  of  a  desperate  enterprise.  Once 
you're  well  into  it  you'll  enjoy  yourself  again.  And 
there's  nothing  to  be  frightened  about." 

"I'm  rather  frightened  of  the  police,"  she  said. 
"You'll  keep  a  good  watch,  won't  you?  and  warn 
us  in  time  if  anybody  comes." 

We  overtook  the  rest  of  the  party  outside  Patter- 
son's house.  There  were  no  lights  in  any  of  the 
windows.  Patterson  had  evidently  made  up  his 
mind  that  the  burglary  would  not  be  attempted,  and 
had  gone  to  bed.  I  could  not  suppose  that  he  was 
waiting  for  us  all  by  himself  in  a  dark  room.  The 
wall  of  his  yard  looked  to  me  much  higher  than  I 
thought  it  was.  Walls,  mountains,  and  other  things 
which  stick  up  always  do  look  higher  than  they 
really  are  in  the  dark. 

"I  don't  believe  I'll  ever  be  able  to  <*limb  it,"  said 
Molly. 

"You  will,  miss,"  said  Quin.  "With  the  help  of 
God,  you'll  climb  it  easy." 

"There's  no  use  funking  it  now,  Molly,"  I  said. 
"You've  brought  us  all  out  here.  It  was  your  plan 
originally — and  we  can't  have  you  going  back  on 
us  now." 

Molly  is  a  plucky  girl.    She  recognised  her  respon- 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    247 

sibility  as  leader  of  the  expedition,  and  pulled  her- 
self together.  < 

"Come  on,"  she  said,  "the  sooner  we  start  the 
better." 

She  meant,  I  think,  that  the  sooner  she  started  the 
sooner  the  terrifying  experience  would  be  over.  But 
she  was  plainly  determined  to  go  through  with  the 
business  now. 

"If  we  can't  climb  the  wall,"  she  said,  "we'll 
have  to  go  and  get  a  ladder  somewhere." 

"There's  a  ladder  in  Mahony's  back  yard,"  said 
Sabina,  "and  I  know  where  it's  kept.  We  could 
borrow  it  easy." 

"You  might  call  it  borrowing,"  I  said,  "but  I 
don't  advise  your  attempting  two  burglaries  in  one 
night.  You  can't  tell  what  Mahony  might  do  if  he 
woke  up  and  found  you  dragging  off  his  ladder." 

Mahony  is,  I  know,  a  peaceful  and  timid  man; 
but,  unlike  Patterson,  he  had  not  been  told  to  expect 
burglars. 

"You  can  manage  that  wall  all  right  without  a 
ladder,  Quin.  Anyhow  I'm  sure  Sabina  can." 

"I  can,  of  course,"  said  Sabina. 

"That  one,"  said  her  father,  "could  leap  any  wall 
you  put  her  at;  the  same  as  a  young  goat.  But  I'd 
rather  have  the  first  try  at  it  myself.  You  couldn't 
tell  what  a  girl  like  that  might  be  doing  if  she  got 
over  into  the  yard  by  herself.  And  it's  my  belief  I 
could  do  it  if  I  had  the  hamper  to  stand  on.  Let 


248   ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

you  give  me  a  hand  now,  Master  Tom,  and  we'll  set 
it  over  against  the  wall." 

Tommy,  who  showed  no  sign  whatever  of 
nervousness,  took  one  side  of  the  hamper.  He  and 
Quin  tugged  it  across  the  road  and  set  it  down 
close  to  the  wall.  I  felt  that  it  was  time  for  me  to 
retire  into  the  archway  beside  Mahony's  shop  at 
the  other  side  of  the  street.  It  was  a  deep  archway 
and  looked  quite  dark.  I  should  be  out  of  sight 
there  if  anyone  happened  to  pass  along,  and  I  should 
be  in  a  good  position  for  watching  the  scaling  of 
the  wall.  But  Molly  caught  me  by  the  arm. 

"Don't  go  yet,"  she  said.  "I'd  feel  happier  if 
you  stayed  just  for  a  little." 

I  realised  that  if  Molly's  nerve  gave  way  the 
whole  enterprise  would  fail,  so  I  stayed  where  I  was, 
though  I  did  not  feel  comfortable. 

Quin  stood  on  the  hamper  and  found  that  he  could 
just  reach  the  top  of  the  wall  with  his  hands.  He 
made  several  gallant  efforts  to  pull  himself  up,  and 
I  think  he  might  have  managed  it  if  the  stones  on 
the  top  had  been  firm.  But  they  were  loose  and  kept 
giving  way.  One  after  another  fell  with  a  loud 
noise  on  the  footpath,  and  each  time  Quin  came  down 
again  on  top  of  the  hamper. 

"In  the  end,"  I  said,  "you  will  no  doubt  pull  the 
whole  wall  down  and  be  able  to  walk  straight  into 
the  yard;  but  you'll  probably  awaken  everybody  in 
Carrigahooly  first." 

Quin  understood  just  as  well  as  I  did  that  he  was 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT     249 

making  an  abominable  noise.  He  stepped  down 
from  the  hamper. 

"Can  you  not  do  it?"  said  Molly,  anxiously. 

She  was  a  little  disappointed  at  his  failure ;  but  I 
think  she  would  not  have  minded  much  if  he  had 
refused  to  try  again. 

"Will  I  go  for  the  ladder?"  said  Sabina. 

"You  will  not,"  said  Quin.  "Didn't  you  hear  his 
Reverence  say  there  was  to  be  no  robbery  done?" 

He  pulled  away  the  mask  from  his  face  and 
stuffed  it  into  his  trousers  pocket. 

"I'd  be  better  able  to  climb,"  he  said,  "if  I  could 
see  what  I  was  doing." 

Then  he  took  off  his  coat  and  handed  it  to  Sabina. 

"Take  care  of  that  coat  now,"  he  said,  "and  don't 
set  it  down  anywhere  without  you  remember  where 
it  is  you  put  it.  Mind,  now,  if  that  coat's  lost  you'll 
be  sorry  for  it.  Now,  Master  Tom,  if  you  put  your 
hand  under  my  foot  and  give  a  bit  of  a  hoist  when 
I  speak  the  word,  I'm  of  opinion  that  I'll  get  the 
better  of  the  old  wall  yet." 

But  Tommy  had  a  better  plan  than  that.  He  be- 
longs to  an  officers'  training  corps,  and  in  the  course 
of  military  evolutions  had  learned  to  stand  with  his 
face  to  a  wall  and  his  head  tucked  in  in  such  a  way 
that  somebody  else  could  mount  on  his  shoulders. 
He  explained  this  manoeuvre  at  some  length  to  Quin 
and  then  put  himself  in  the  proper  position.  I  was 
glad  then  that  Quin  had  insisted  on  wearing  my 
tennis  shoes.  He  had  to  trample  on  Tommy's  back 


250   ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

a  great  deal  before  he  was  in  a  position  to  get  on 
top  of  the  wall.  If  he  had  been  wearing  his  usual 
heavy  boots  he  would  certainly  have  broken 
Tommy's  collar  bone,  perhaps  his  spine. 

"Splendid !"  said  Molly,  when  Quin  seated  him- 
self astride  of  the  wall. 

What  I  expected  was  beginning  to  happen.  The 
excitement  was  curing  Molly's  nervousness. 

"Glory  be  to  God !"  said  Sabina,  fervently.  "He's 
done  it  in  the  latter  end." 

It  was  Molly's  turn  next.  According  to  the  orig- 
inal plan,  she  and  Quin  were  to  sit  on  the  wall  while 
Tommy  and  Sabina  passed  the  hamper  up  to  them. 
She  stood  cautiously  on  the  hamper  and  looked  up 
at  a  stretch  of  smooth  wall  above  her. 

"Will  I  ever  do  it?"  she  said. 

Quin,  balanced  rather  perilously  on  the  loose 
stones,  leaned  over  towards  her,  and  spoke  encour- 
agingly. 

"You  will,  your  ladyship,"  he  said.  "You  will, 
easy.  Let  you  stand  up  against  the  wall  now,  Mas- 
ter Tom,  the  way  you  were  standing.  That's  right. 
But  put  your  head  down  now,  for  fear  the  young 
lady  might  hit  you  a  kick  on  it.  Listen  to  me,  Sa- 
bina, let  you  take  her  ladyship's  foot  and  put  it  on 
the  young  gentleman's  shoulder." 

Quin  turned  to  one  after  another  as  he  gave  his 
directions.  He  had  taken  over  the  leadership  of 
the  party  and  no  one  seemed  inclined  to  dispute  his 
commands.  So,  in  times  of  stress,  master  minds 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    251 

emerge  and  assume  the  direction  of  affairs  by  mere 
force  of  fitness  and  ability. 

"Do  you  all  understand  me,  now?"  said  Quin. 

Tommy,  his  muscles  braced  tight,  his  head  tucked 
in,  was  scarcely  in  a  position  to  reply.  Molly  was 
looking  up  anxiously  and  said  nothing.  Sabina  re- 
sponded by  seizing  Molly's  left  ankle. 

"Reach  up  -^our  hand  now  as  high  as  you  can, 
miss/'  said  Quin. 

Molly,  standing  shakily  on  Tommy's  back,  reached 
upwards.  Quin  caught  her  by  the  wrist  and  pulled. 

"Give  a  lep  now,  Miss,"  he  said. 

Molly  did  her  best  and  for  a  moment  hung  sus- 
pended in  the  air.  Then  she  slowly  dropped  down 
again  on  to  Tommy's  back,  feeling  about  vaguely 
with  her  feet  for  a  secure  resting  place. 

"Give  another  lep,"  said  Quin.  "Sabina,  didn't 
I  tell  you  to  take  a  good  hold  of  her  ladyship's  foot 
and  give  a  hoist  to  it?" 

"How  can  I,"  said  Sabina,  "when  she's  kicking 
the  way  she  is.  She'd  have  my  face  broke  on  me 
if  I  went  near  her." 

"It  makes  no  matter  if  it  is  broke,"  said  Quin. 
"The  face  you  have  on  you  is  no  great  ornament, 
anyway.  Lep  now,  Miss.  Lep  higher.  Lep  for 
your  life." 

There  was  a  short,  fierce  struggle.  Sabina  risked 
the  destruction  of  her  unornamental  face.  Quin 
pulled  hard,  and  Molly  got  her  knee  on  top  of  the 
wall  at  last.  A  moment  later  she  was  seated  safely, 


252    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

panting.  Sabina  was  out  of  breath,  too,  and 
Tommy,  when  he  raised  his  head,  was  purple  in  the 
face.  Quin  was  the  only  one  who  seemed  unaffected 
though  he  had  worked  harder  than  anyone  else. 

"Mind  where  you're  sitting  now,  Miss,"  he  said. 
"There's  a  lot  of  broken  glass  on  top  of  this  wall, 
and  you'd  cut  yourself  before  you'd  know  it." 

I  remembered  that  it  was  my  riding  breeches 
which  Molly  was  wearing.  I  sincerely  hoped  that 
she  would  be  careful.  I  cannot  possibly  afford  to 
buy  another  pair,  and  I  cannot  ride  about  the  par- 
ish, with  any  dignity,  in  breeches  cut  to  pieces  by 
broken  glass.  I  thought  of  adding  an  exhortation 
to  Quin's  warning,  but  I  felt  it  would  be  no  use. 
If  Molly  did  not  keep  clear  of  the  broken  glass  for 
the  sake  of  her  own  skin  she  was  not  likely  to  be 
influenced  by  the  thought  of  damage  to  my  breeches. 
Besides,  I  felt  that  it  was  fully  time  for  me  to  re- 
tire and  hide  myself  in  Mahony's  archway.  Even 
if  Patterson  were  sound  asleep,  the  noise  made  by 
getting  Molly  up  the  wall  would  have  wakened 
him  long  before.  I  was  surprised  that  it  had  not 
wakened  everyone  in  the  neighbourhood.  Perhaps 
it  had.  In  Ireland  nowadays  an  unusual  noise  in 
the  middle  of  the  night  does  not  lead  people  to  look 
out  of  their  windows.  It  acts  like  a  war-time  alarm 
signal  in  towns  subject  to  air  raids.  Those  who 
hear  it  retire  fearfully  and  silently  to  the  safest 
place  they  know.  I  dare  say  Mahony  spent  half 
that  night  in  his  cellar. 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    253 

I  could  see  fairly  well  from  the  shadow  of  the 
archway.  The  street  being  narrow  I  could  also 
hear  what  Quin  said.  He  spoke  in  a  hoarse  whis- 
per, but  the  words  carried  quite  clearly  to  my  hid- 
ing place. 

"Now,  Master  Tom,"  he  said,  "let  you  and  Sa- 
bina  put  your  hands  under  the  bottom  of  the  ham- 
per and  lift  it  up  as  high  as  you're  able  so  as  her 
ladyship  and  me  can  get  hold  of  it  by  the  two  han- 
dles and  pull  it  to  us,  and  do  you  be  mighty  care- 
ful, Miss,  and  not  be  moving  more  than  you  can 
help,  for  the  wall's  rotten  and  it  wouldn't  do  if  it 
came  down  on  us." 

The  hamper  was  heavy.  I  knew  that  by  experi- 
ence, having  taken  part  in  hauling  it  on  board  the 
"Aurora."  But  Tommy  and  Sabina  managed  to 
raise  it.  Unfortunately  they  could  not  lift  it  quite 
high  enough.  Quin  and  Molly  leaned  sideways  and 
stretched  their  arms  down  until  I  thought  they  must 
certainly  overbalance  and  fall,  but  they  could  not 
grip  the  handles. 

"A  bit  higher  now,  and  we  have  it,"  said  Quin. 

But  the  "bit  higher"  was  impossible.  Tommy 
and  Sabina  let  the  hamper  down  again.  There  was 
a  short  consultation,  and  then  another  plan  was 
tried.  Tommy  knelt  down  and  Sabina  put  the 
hamper  on  his  shoulders.  Then  he  slowly  and  very 
carefully  raised  himself,  Sabina  holding  the  ham- 
per to  prevent  it  slipping  off.  I  think  this  plan 
might  have  succeeded.  Quin  had  actually  got  hold 


254    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

of  one  handle  and  Molly  had  her  finger  tips  on  the 
other  when  I  became  aware  of  a  horrible  disaster. 
Sergeant  Morris  and  Constable  Moran  were  coming 
down  the  street. 

There  could  not  possibly  have  t>een  a  worse  mo- 
ment for  their  appearance,  and  I  am  ashamed  to  say 
I  completely  lost  my  head.  I  knew  that  it  was  my 
duty  to  give  timely  warning  to  the  burgling  party. 
I  remembered  that  I  was  to  whistle  a  tune,  but  I 
entirely  forgot  what  tune  it  was  to  be.  Beyond  a 
vague  impression  that  it  was  something  baccha- 
nalian, I  could  remember  nothing  about  it.  And  I 
had  no  time  to  think.  Sergeant  Morris  and  the 
constable  were  moving  slowly,  but  they  were  getting 
nearer.  I  broke  out  into  a  shrill  attempt  at  "He's 
a  jolly  good  fellow."  Molly  raised  her  head  and 
looked  in  my  direction.  Then,  satisfied  apparently 
that  I  was  not  whistling  the  tune  agreed  on,  she  bent 
down  again  and  caught  the  handle  of  the  hamper. 
Quin  had  less  confidence  in  me  or  else  he  did  not 
know  one  tune  from  another.  He  hesitated  for  a 
moment  when  he  heard  me  whistle.  Then  he  let 
go  the  handle  he  held  and  dropped  out  of  sight  into 
Patterson's  yard.  Molly,  without  hesitation,  let  go 
her  handle  and  dropped  after  him.  Sabina  gave  a 
wild  cry. 

"It's  the  police,  it's  the  police,"  she  said,  "we'll 
be  catched." 

But  she  did  not  mean  to  be  "catched"  if  she  could 
help  it.  She  fled  up  the  street  at  a  speed  that  I 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    255 

should  have  thought  impossible  for  a  barefooted 
girl,  over  stony  ground.  Poor  Tommy  could  do 
nothing  to  save  himself.  He  was  bent  under  the 
hamper  when  my  uncertain  alarm  sounded.  When 
Quin,  Molly,  and  Sabina  all  let  go,  the  whole  weight 
of  it  came  on  him  suddenly.  He  staggered  and  col- 
lapsed, crushed  to  the  ground,  with  the  hamper  on 
top  of  him. 

I  stopped  whistling  and  withdrew  further  into  the 
shadow  of  the  archway.  I  might  have  gone  right 
through  it  into  Mahony's  yard  and  found  a  secure 
resting  place  in  some  shed,  but  I  was  most  anxious 
to  see  what  happened  next,  and  I  felt  sure  that  Ser- 
geant Morris,  with  Tommy  rolling  on  the  ground 
in  front  of  him,  would  not  take  the  trouble  to  search 
for  me. 

"It's  Sinn  Feiners,  sure  enough,''  i  said  Sergeant 
Morris. 

He  and  Constable  Moran  halted  and  drew  their 
revolvers. 

In  Ireland  at  present  we  are  living  through  three 
revolutions,  one  political,  one  syndicalist,  and  one 
agrarian.  They  are  so  mixed  together  that  even 
their  most  active  agents  cannot  distinguish  between 
them.  The  Royal  Irish  Constabulary  has  been 
given  the  job  of  saving  the  present  order  of  society, 
and  has  been  given  no  intelligent  orders  how  to  do 
it.  It  is  no  wonder  that  the  men  occasionally  fail 
to  understand  clearly  what  is  happening  before  their 
eyes.  But  they  have  never  for  a  single  moment 


256    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

failed  in  courage  or  faltered  in  the  performance  of 
duty.  If  ever,  in  years  to  come,  we  draw  up  a  na- 
tional calendar  of  brave  men,  comparable  to  the 
church's  calendar  of  saints,  there  must  be  a  splen- 
did All  Heroes'  Day  set  apart  for  the  commemora- 
tion of  the  high  deeds  of  the  unnamed  men  of  our 
Irish  police. 

Sergeant  Morris  believed  that  Tommy  and  his 
hamper  were  the  debris  of  a  force  of  Sinn  Feiners, 
which  had  been  attacking  Mr.  Patterson's  house. 
Believing  that,  he  must  have  expected  that  riflemen 
would  open  fire  at  him  from  front  and  side  and  rear. 
Yet  neither  he  nor  Constable  Moran  displayed  the 
smallest  sign  of  fear,  and  they  made  no  movement 
of  flight. 

"Will  I  shoot?"  said  Constable  Moran. 

In  his  position  I  should  have  shot  Tommy  with- 
out waiting  for  permission,  if  indeed  I  had  not  been 
too  terrified  to  pull  a  trigger.  But  Constable  Moran 
was  a  member  of  force  whose  discipline  is  unsur- 
passed, I  suppose,  even  by  that  of  the  Guards' 
Brigade.  And  Sergeant  Morris  remembered  that 
he  represented  law  and  order. 

"You  will  not  shoot,"  he  said,  "there's  no  more 
than  one  of  them  left,  and  we're  well  able  to  take 
him  without  shooting." 

Tommy  struggled  clear  of  the  hamper  and  stood 
up.  He  must  have  been  bruised  and  cut  in  various 
parts  of  his  body,  but  I  was  glad  to  see  that  he  had 
no  bones  broken.  I  fully  expected  to  see  him  at- 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    257 

tempt  to  escape  by  making  a  rush  up  the  street.  It 
would  have  been  a  foolish  and  useless  thing  to  do. 
The  police  could  certainly  have  shot  him,  and  even 
if  they  did  not  fire  he  would  have  been  caught. 
They  were  within  a  few  yards  of  him  by  the  time 
he  was  on  his  feet,  and  Constable  Moran  is  a  tall, 
athletic  young  man  who  would  have  run  the  boy 
down  sooner  or  later. 

Tommy  realised  the  situation  and  adopted  a  pol- 
icy which  I  should  not  have  thought  of.  He  ad- 
vanced to  meet  the  police  and  greeted  them  with 
cheery  friendliness. 

"Good  evening,  sergeant,"  he  said,  "nice  night, 
isn't  it?  Good  evening,  Moran.  That  was  a  great 
sail  we  had  home  from  Inisheeny  this  afternoon." 

The  situation  became  extremely  interesting,  and 
I  felt  sure  that  no  one  would  take  any  notice  of 
me.  I  stepped  cautiously  to  the  entrance  of  my 
archway  so  as  to  be  able  to  see  and  hear  all  that 
happened. 

"Put  the  handcuffs  on  him,  Constable,"  said  Ser- 
geant Morris. 

He  must  have  come  across  plausible  criminals  be- 
fore, and  he  was  not  going  to  be  taken  in  by  bluff. 

"Oh,  nonsense,"  said  Tommy.  "You  know  who 
I  am  perfectly  well." 

"I  do  not  know  who  you  are,"  said  the  sergeant, 
"but  I  will  know  to-morrow  morning  when  I  get 
you  before  a  magistrate." 

Then  Tommy  remembered  that  he  was  wearing  a 


258    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

black  mask,  a  most  effective  disguise,  and  that  the 
sergeant  could  not  possibly  recognise  him.  He  tore 
it  off  and  threw  it  on  the  ground. 

"Now  you  know  who  I  am,"  he  said.  "I'm  Gra- 
ham, Tommy  Graham,  the  rector's  nephew." 

"If  that's  the  best  story  you  have  to  tell  for  your- 
self," said  the  sergeant,  "you  needn't  waste  your 
breath  telling  it  to  me,  and  I'd  advise  you  think  of 
a  better  one  before  to-morrow  morning.  Put  the 
handcuffs  on  him,  Moran,  before  some  more  of 
them  comes  to  rescue  him." 

The  sergeant  had  often  seen  Tommy.  He  had 
seen  him  as  lately  as  the  day  before  when  he  stood 
on  the  end  of  the  pier  and  watched  us  row  off  to  the 
"Aurora."  He  ought,  I  think,  to  have  recognised 
him.  But  there  was  a  good  deal  of  excuse  for  him. 
It  was  most  unlikely  that  my  nephew  would  be 
found  masked  in  the  middle  of  the  night  trying  to 
break  into  Patterson's  back  yard.  Moran  seemed  to 
be  a  little  uncertain.  He  hesitated  to  handcuff 
Tommy. 

Tommy  drew  a  matchbox  from  his  pocket,  struck 
a  light  and  held  it  up  in  front  of  his  face. 

"Look  at  me,  sergeant,"  he  said.  "You've  seen 
me  lots  of  times.  You  must  know  me." 

The  sergeant  stared  at  him  and  became  doubtful. 

"You're  mighty  like  the  rector's  nephew,  I'll  say 
that  much  for  you." 

Tommy  will  some  day  be  a  great  man.  He  had 
kept  his  head  and  acted  with  presence  of  mind  in  a 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    259 

most  difficult  situation.  His  next  speech  struck  me 
as  masterly. 

"That's  all  right,  then,  sergeant,"  he  said. 
"Good-night." 

He  spoke  in  a  tone  of  complete  self  assurance, 
and  he  began  to  walk  away,  as  if  walking  away  were 
precisely  what  might  be  expected  of  him.  But  the 
sergeant,  though  shaken  in  his  belief  that  Tommy 
was  a  criminal,  was  not  yet  convinced  of  his  inno- 
cence. 

"Catch  hold  of  him,  Moran,"  he  said. 

Moran  obeyed  this  order  promptly  enough,  and 
gripped  Tommy  by  the  collar  of  his  coat. 

"You  can't  be  walking  off  like  that,"  said  the  ser- 
geant. "You  may  be  the  rector's  nephew,  or  you 
may  not,  but  you'll  have  to  give  an  account  of  your- 
self. What  are  you  doing  gladiator  ing  about  in 
the  middle  of  the  night  with  a  black  mask  on  your 
face,  and  climbing  over  the  wall  into  Mr.  Patter- 
son's back-yard?" 

That,  I  thought,  would  put  Tommy  into  a  cor- 
ner. The  fact  that  he  is  my  nephew — if  he  con- 
vinced the  sergeant  of  it — would  no  doubt  go  a  long 
way  towards  clearing  him  of  the  charges  of  sedi- 
tion, privy  conspiracy,  and  rebellion.  But  Sinn 
Feiners  are  not  the  only  people  in  Ireland  who  break 
the  law.  There  are  criminals  of  a  more  familiar 
kind  who  are  bent  simply  on  taking  other  people's 
property.  Even  my  nephew,  though  I  am  a  highly 
respectable  man,  might  be  a  thief.  The  case  of 


260   ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

Geordie  Robertson,  in  the  Heart  of  Midlothian,  if 
not  actually  historical,  is  yet  a  good  example  of  the 
depths  to  which  the  relatives  of  clergymen  occasion- 
ally sink.  The  black  mask,  the  hamper,  and  the 
broken  wall  required  a  good  deal  of  explanation. 
I  felt  that  Tommy  wanted  help.  He  had  done  very 
well,  so  far;  but  the  time  had  come  when  some- 
body ought  to  stand  by  him. 

I  stepped  out  of  the  archway  and  crossed  the 
street. 

"Good  evening,  sergeant,"  I  said.  "I  see  you've 
got  my  nephew  there.  But  you  needn't  arrest  him. 
He  hasn't  been  doing  anything  wrong." 

The  sergeant  recognised  me  at  once.  Even  if  he 
had  not  been  able  to  see  me  very  well  he  would  have 
known  my  voice.  Being  a  parishioner  of  mine,  he 
listens  to  my  sermons  nearly  every  Sunday.  He 
has,  of  course,  a  great  respect  for  me. 

"If  your  Reverence  says  it's  all  right,"  he  said, 
"I  won't  be  contradicting  you.  But  the  circum- 
stances is  mighty  suspicious,  so  they  are." 

"Who  do  you  think  he  is?"  I  asked. 

"If  your  Reverence  hadn't  spoken  up  for  him," 
said  the  sergeant,  "I'd  have  said  he  was  a  Sinn 
Feiner  breaking  into  Mr.  Patterson's  premises  with 
intent  to  murder." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "you  know  now  that  he's  not  that, 
anyhow." 

"I'd  like  to  know  this,"  said  the  sergeant,  firmly, 
"and  it's  not  out  of  disrespect  to  your  Reverence 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    261 

that  I'm  asking  it.  What  was  the  young  gentleman 
doing  lifting  baskets  down  off  the  wall  of  Mr.  Pat- 
terson's yard,  him  and  a  young  girl  that  looked  to 
me  mighty  like  Sabina  Quin.  I  seen  him  at  it  my- 
self, and  I'm  prepared  to  swear  to  it." 

It  was  quite  time  for  Tommy  to  take  up  his  own 
defence  again,  and  I  was  anxious  to  hear  what  lie 
he  would  invent  to  account  for  the  position  in  which 
the  sergeant  found  him.  A  lie  of  some  sort  seemed 
to  be  necessary  but  I  did  not  see  how  a  plausible  one 
could  be  found. 

"Tell  the  sergeant  what  you  were  doing,"  I  said. 

Tommy,  to  my  astonishment,  told  the  truth, 
though  not  quite  the  whole  of  it. 

"I  wasn't  lifting  a  hamper  down  off  the  wall,"  he 
said,  "or  taking  anything  out  of  Mr.  Patterson's 
yard.  I  was  trying  to  lift  a  hamper  over  the  wall, 
so  as  to  put  it  into  the  yard." 

I  do  not  know  what  more  Tommy  intended  to  say, 
At  that  point  he  was  stopped  abruptly.  He  was 
standing  with  his  face  towards  the  wall  and  I  saw 
his  glance  shift  from  the  sergeant  and  his  eyes  fix 
themselves  on  something  beyond  and  above.  I 
looked  and  saw  Molly's  head  and  shoulders  raised 
over  the  wall.  She  was  making  faces  at  Tommy, 
violently.  She  was  also  gesticulating  with  her 
hands.  She  was  evidently  attempting  to  convey 
some  message  to  him  by  silent  signalling,  but  I 
could  not  make  out  what  she  meant.  Nor  could 
Tommy. 


262   ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

"Go  away,"  he  said. 

"What's  that  you're  saying?"  said  the  sergeant 
sharply. 

"Nothing,"  said  Tommy. 

"I  heard  you,"  said  the  sergeant,  "and  Constable 
Moran  heard  you.  Come  now,  what  was  it  you 
said?" 

I  did  not  think  that  the  situation,  difficult  enough 
already,  would  be  in  any  way  improved  if  Molly 
were  dragged  over  the  wall  or  chased  round  and 
round  the  yard  by  Constable  Moran.  It  seemed  to 
me  that  the  best  thing  to  do  was  to  recall  the  ser- 
geant's attention  to  the  original  subject  of  conversa- 
tion, and  let  him  forget  the  momentary  interruption. 

"Come  now,  Tommy,"  I  said,  "tell  the  sergeant 
exactly,  what  you  were  doing  with  that  hamper. 
He  has  a  perfect  right  to  ask  the  question.  After 
all  you  were  behaving  in  a  very  suspicious  way. 
You  can't  deny  that." 

"It'll  be  better  for  the  young  gentleman,"  said 
the  sergeant,  "and  better  for  all  of  us,  if  he'll  tell 
the  truth," 


CHAPTER  XIX 

I  SUPPOSE  it  is  generally  better  to  tell  the 
truth;  but  in  this  case  the  truth  was  singu- 
larly difficult  to  believe.  I  almost  wished  that 
Tommy  would  have  invented  a  lie.  Any  lie  would 
have  been  more  credible  than  the  story  he  actually 
told. 

"I  told  you  the  truth  before,"  said  Tommy,  "and 
you  wouldn't  believe  it.  But  I  don't  mind  telling  it 
to  you  again.  I  was  trying  to  get  a  hamper  over 
the  back  wall  into  Mr.  Patterson's  yard.  It's  a 
hamper  that  belongs  to  him,  so  I  was  simply  trying 
to  give  him  his  own  property.  There's  nothing  il- 
legal about  that,  is  there?  The  hamper  is  full  of 
fish — fish  and  lobsters.  Now  will  you  stop  arrest- 
ing me  and  let  me  go  home?" 

"I'd  let  you  go  home,"  said  the  sergeant,  "if 
you'd  tell  me  a  story  that  any  man  could  believe. 

But "  the  poor  man  was  evidently  perplexed. 

"Did  anyone  ever  hear  of  a  gentleman  taking_  a 
hamper  of  fish  to  another  gentleman  across  a  ten 
foot  wall  in  the  middle  of  the  night?  Why  would 
you  do  the  like?  Why  would  anyone?" 

"If  you  doubt  my  word,"  said  Tommy,  "go  and 
see  what's  in  the  hamper  for  yourself." 

"Constable  Mor'an,"  said  the  sergeant,  "will  you 
263 


264   ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

go  and  search  that  hamper  while  I  keep  an  eye  on 
the  prisoner?" 

Moran  approached  the  hamper  cautiously  and 
opened  it  more  cautiously  still.  I  do  not  think  that 
he  still  suspected  Tommy  of  being  a  Sinn  Feiner. 
But  the  police  have  to  be  very  careful.  Explosives 
have  often  been  used  for  the  destruction  of  barracks, 
and  nobody  likes  the  idea  of  being  blown  to  pieces 
suddenly.  But  whatever  feelings  of  fear  he  might 
have  had,  Moran  did  his  duty  thoroughly.  He  laid 
the  lobsters  in  rows  on  the  road  and  made  little  piles 
of  fish.  When  the  hamper  was  quite  empty  he 
packed  the  lobsters  and  fish  back  into  it  again.  Then 
he  made  his  report. 

"There's  nothing  in  it,"  he  said,  "of  a  compro- 
mising kind." 

"I  told  you  so,"  said  Tommy. 

I  think  that  the  sergeant  would  have  released 
Tommy  then  if  Molly  had  not  chosen  that  moment 
to  put  her  head  and  shoulders  over  the  wall  again. 
She  was  making  faces  even  more  urgently  than 
before,  but  the  meaning  was  as  unintelligible  as 
ever. 

"Go  away,  Molly,"  said  Tommy.  "Go  away  at 
once." 

This  time  the  sergeant  turned  sharply,  and  caught 
sight  of  Molly  before  she  disappeared. 

"Did  you  see  anyone  on  top  of  the  wall,  Con- 
stable Moran?"  he  said. 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    265 

"I  seen  a  girl,"  said  Moran,  "or  it  might  have 
been  a  grown  woman." 

"Or  it  might  have  been  a  young  lad,"  said  the 
sergeant.  "Tell  me  now,"  he  said  to  Tommy,  "who 
was  it  you  were  speaking  to?" 

Tommy  had  been  pestered  by  the  sergeant,  and 
he  was  aggravated  by  Molly's  making  faces  at  him. 
His  temper  gave  way  suddenly,  and  once  more  he 
spoke  the  literal  truth. 

"It  was  Miss  Floyd,"  he  said.  "Go  and  arrest 
her,  and  then  perhaps  you'll  be  satisfied." 

I  was  very  much  afraid  that  the  sergeant  might 
send  Moran  across  the  wall  to  pursue  Molly.  For- 
tunately his  attention  was  distracted  by  the  appear- 
ance of  Sabina  at  the  far  end  of  the  street. 

She  approached  us  very  cautiously,  keeping  as 
much  as  possible  in  the  shadow  of  the  houses,  and 
making  no  noise  with  her  bare  feet.  She  may  per- 
haps have  been  moved  by  a  vague  desire  to  help 
Tommy,  and  a  feeling  of  shame  for  having  fled  in 
a  moment  of  panic,  leaving  him  in  the  hands  of  the 
police.  Poacher  Quin,  in  spite  of  his  obvious  faults, 
has  some  fine  feeling  and  a  good  deal  of  courage 
— his  daughter  might  have  inherited  a  sense  of  loy- 
alty and  chivalry  from  him — or  she  may  simply 
have  been  filled  with  curiosity  and  prepared  to  take 
the  risk  of  being  arrested  for  the  sake  of  finding  out 
what  had  happened  to  the  rest  of  the  party.  She 
probably  calculated  on  being  able  to  escape  again  if 
she  were  pursued. 


266  ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

Sergeant  Morris,  very  alert  now,  after  Molly's  two 
appearances,  saw  Sabina  at  once. 

"There's  a  girl  there,  Moran,"  he  said,  pointing 
to  Sabina,  "and  I'm  of  opinion  that  it's  Quin's 
daughter,  the  same  that  was  with  the  young  gentle- 
man at  the  first  go  off." 

"It's  her  right  enough,'*  said  Moran. 

"Will  you  go  after  her  then,  and  catch  her?" 
said  the  sergeant.  Constable  Moran  started  up  the 
street  at  a  good  pace.  Sabina  turned  and  fled  at 
once.  They  passed  from  our  sight,  though  for  a 
long  time  I  could  hear  the  rapid  beating  of  Moran's 
boots  on  the  hard  road  surface. 

"Them  Quins,"  said  the  sergeant,  "is  always  up 
to  some  mischief.  If  it  isn't  one  thing  it's  an- 
other." 

He  shares  Patterson's  prejudice  against  Poacher 
Quin,  and  he  goes  further.  I  never  heard  Patter- 
son say  a  word  against  Sabina.  The  sergeant  thinks 
her  as  bad  as  her  father. 

A  light  appeared  in  one  of  the  upper  windows  of 
Patterson's  house.  A  moment  later  the  blind  was 
pulled  up  and  the  window  opened.  Patterson  thrust 
out  his  head. 

"What's  all  that  noise  about?"  he  said.  "And 
who's  there?" 

"It's  me,  sir,"  said  the  sergeant,  "and  Constable 
Moran  was  with  me  till  just  this  minute.  We're 
on  patrol  duty." 

"I    wish   to   goodness   you'd   patrol   somewhere 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    267 

else,"  said  Patterson.  "You've  kept  me  awake  for 
the  last  half  hour  talking  under  my  window.  JVho 
the  devil  are  you  quarrelling  with?  I  can't  have 
people  arguing  about  politics  in  the  street  at  this 
time  of  night." 

Patterson  must,  I  thought,  have  been  awake  for 
a  good  deal  more  than  half  an  hour.  And  if  he 
heard  our  conversation  with  the  sergeant  he  must 
have  been  more  amused  than  annoyed.  But  he  was 
evidently  determined  to  represent  himself  as  an  inno- 
cent householder  roused  from  sleep. 

"There  was  no  quarrelling  done,  sir,"  said  the 
sergeant,  "and  there  wasn't  a  word  said  about  poli- 
tics, either  good  or  bad." 

"If  you  weren't  talking  politics,"  said  Patterson, 
"what  were  you  arguing  about?  There's  nothing 
else  men  wrangle  over  in  the  way  you've  been  doing 
except  politics.  Surely  to  goodness  it  wasn't  re- 
ligion." 

"The  constable  and  myself,"  said  the  sergeant, 
"was  arresting  a  prisoner." 

"They've  arrested  me,"  said  Tommy,  "and  I  wish 
you'd  tell  them  to  let  me  go  again." 

"Who  are  you?"  said  Patterson. 

He  was  apparently  surprised,  annoyed,  and  puz- 
zled. He  was  acting  so  well  that  I  began  to  wonder 
if  he  were  acting  at  all.  It  was  just  possible  that 
he  had  forgotten  all  about  the  burglary.  If  he  had 
dismissed  my  warning  from  his  mind  and  gone  to 
bed  he  might,  in  the  first  confused  moments  of 


268  ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

waking  up,  be  really  astonished  at  what  was  going 
on.  In  that  case  he  might  possibly  order  the  ser- 
geant to  march  Tommy  off  to  a  cell  in  the  barracks 
for  the  rest  of  the  night.  I  thought  it  well  to  at- 
tempt some  sort  of  explanation. 

"There's  been  a  slight  misunderstanding,"  I  said. 
"The  sergeant  has  arrested  my  nephew,  Tommy  Gra- 
ham." 

"That  you,  rector?"  said  Patterson. 

Like  the  sergeant  he  has  the  advantage  of  listen- 
ing to  my  sermons,  and  therefore  knows  my  voice. 

"Yes,"  I  said.  "I  happened  to  be  out  for  a 
walk—" 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  Patterson,  "that  every- 
body in  this  town  is  out  for  a  walk  to-night  except 
me.  I  must  be  the  only  man  in  the  place  who  went 
to  bed.  Wait  a  moment,  and  I'll  come  down  and 
see  what  all  the  fuss  is  about." 

He  closed  the  window  as  he  spoke,  and  the  light 
disappeared. 

The  sergeant  turned  to  me.  There  was  an  un- 
mistakable note  of  anxiety  in  his  voice  when  he 
spoke. 

"Would  you  say  now,"  he  asked,  "that  Mr.  Pat- 
terson was  annoyed?" 

"It  seemed  to  me  that  he  was,"  I  said.  "But 
he'll  get  over  it.  Most  men  are  a  little  fractious 
when  awakened  at  this  hour." 

"If  he  takes  it  into  his  head,"  said  the  sergeant, 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    269 

"that  me  and  Constable  Moran  was  talking  poli- 
tics, there'll  be  trouble." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "you  can't  be  surprised  at  that. 
Nobody  ought  to  talk  politics  in  the  middle  of  the 
night,  except  in  Parliament,  of  course." 

"But  there  wasn't  a  word  said  about  politics. 
I'd  be  thankful,  now,  to  your  Reverence,  if  you'd 
tell  Mr.  Patterson  that  we  wasn't  talking  politics." 

"I  can't  do  that,"  I  said,  "I  distinctly  heard  you 
say  that  my  nephew  was  a  Sinn  Feiner,  and  that's 
a  highly  political  thing  to  say." 

"I  was  wrong  there,"  said  the  sergeant,  "but  any- 
one might  have  made  the  mistake.  He  looked 
mighty  like  a  Sinn  Feiner  when  I  seen  him  first." 

Patterson  really  had  been  in  bed.  When  he 
opened  the  door  of  his  house  and  stepped  into  the 
street  he  was  wearing  a  dressing  gown,  a  suit  of 
pyjamas,  and  a  pair  of  bedroom  slippers.  He  car- 
ried a  candle  in  his  hand. 

"Dear  me,  Patterson,"  I  said,  "you  look  exactly 
as  if  you'd  been  in  bed." 

"So  I  have  been  in  bed,"  he  said,  "in  bed  and 
asleep.  You  don't  suppose  I  was  going  to  sit  up 
all  night  on  the  off  chance " 

He  stopped  abruptly  and  glanced  at  the  sergeant. 
He  could  not  very  well  go  on  to  explain  that  I  had 
warned  him  of  the  burglary.  Sergeant  Morris 
would  not  have  questioned  his  officer  as  he  had 
questioned  Tommy,  but  he  would  have  tried  to  find 
out,  and  in  the  end  certainly  would  have  found  out, 


270  ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

why  Molly,  Tommy,  Sabina,  Quin,  and  I  wanted 
to  break  into  Patterson's  house.  The  story,  when 
he  had  it  complete,  would  not  have  been  published, 
but  it  would  have  been  told.  It  would  have  passed, 
in  undertones,  from  one  police  barrack  to  another, 
till  every  policeman  in  Ireland  knew  it.  And  that 
would  not  have  been  pleasant  for  Patterson.  His 
reputation  as  an  efficient  and  zealous  officer  would 
not  have  survived  two  dozen  bottles  of  poteen. 

He  came  over  to  me  and  whispered. 

"You  don't  mean  to  say,"  he  said,  "that  they've 
really  been  trying  to  enter  my  house?" 

"Of  course  they  have,"  I  said.  "I  told  you  they 
were  going  to.  You  ought  to  have  believed  me." 

"Nobody,"  said  Patterson,  "could  believe  a  thing 
like  that  beforehand." 

Sergeant  Morris  did  not  like  this  whispered  con- 
versation. He  did  not  know  what  I  might  be  say- 
ing to  Patterson  about  him.  I  hope  he  regards 
me  as  a  friend ;  but  he  had  been  arresting  my  nephew, 
and  I  might  be  capable  of  taking  a  mean  revenge 
by  prejudicing  his  officer  against  him.  He  stepped 
forward  and  made  his  statement  exactly  as  he  would 
have  made  it  in  court  before  a  magistrate. 

"I  discovered  the  prisoner,  sir,"  he  said,  "in  the 
act  of  climbing  the  wall  between  the  street  and  the 
yard  of  your  house." 

"Oh,  don't  let's  go  into  all  that  again!"  said 
Tommy.  "I  told  you  before  that  I  wasn't  climb- 
ing the  wall," 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    271 

"It  looked  to  me  very  like  as  if  you  were,"  said 
the  sergeant 

"Look  here,  Mr.  Patterson,"  said  Tommy.  "You 
remember  that  hamper  of  fish  the  Flanagans  gave 
you  on  Inisheeny?" 

"I  shall  never  forget  it,"  said  Patterson. 

"Well,  it  got  left  in  the  hotel  by  mistake,  and  I 
was  trying  to  give  it  back  to  you.  That's  the  whole 
thing;  and  if  the  sergeant  hadn't  come  muddling  in 
and  arresting  me  it  would  have  been  done  now  and 
everything  would  have  been  all  right." 

"But  I  told  Miss  Floyd,"  said  Patterson,  "and  I 
told  you,  rector,  that  I  didn't  want  those  fish." 

"Oh,  I  know  that,"  said  Tommy,  "but  we  did 
want  to  give  them  back.  That's  the  point." 

"Tommy  has  an  extremely  sensitive  conscience," 
I  said,  "he  couldn't  sleep  easy  when  he  thought  that 
you  were  deprived  of  fish  which  properly  belonged 
to  you." 

"But  I  don't  want  them,"  said  Patterson.  "How- 
ever, it's  all  right  now,  anyhow.  Sergeant,  you 
can  go.  Find  Constable  Moran  and  patrol  some- 
where else,  not  outside  my  window.  Good  night, 
Rector,  good  night,  Tommy.  I'm  grateful  to  you 
for  trying  to  give  me  the  fish,  but  don't  do  it  again." 

I  thought  that  the  whole  affair  was  ended  then 
so  far  as  Tommy  and  I  were  concerned.  Molly  and 
Poacher  Quin  would,  no  doubt,  make  their  way  out 
of  Patterson's  yard  when  things  had  quieted  down. 
We  had  nothing  to  do  but  go  home  to  bed.  But 


272   ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

Tommy  is  a  boy  of  indomitable  spirit.  He  was  not 
inclined,  even  then,  to  give  up  the  original  object  of 
the  expedition. 

"But,  I  say/'  he  said,  "you  may  as  well  have  the 
fish.  There  they  are,  in  the  hamper  beside  the  wall." 

"But  I  keep  on  telling  you  I  don't  want  them," 
said  Patterson. 

"You  can't  leave  them  lying  there  all  night,"  I 
said.  "They're  valuable  fish,  Patterson.  The  lob- 
sters alone  are  worth  four  or  five  shillings.  It's 
simply  putting  temptation  in  the  way  of  dishonest 
people  to  leave  fish  about  like  that.  You  oughtn't  to 
do  it." 

"Oh,  very  well!"  said  Patterson.  "Bring  them 
into  the  house  if  you  like." 

"And  I  suppose  I  can  have  the  other  hamper," 
said  Tommy. 

Sergeant  Morris  was  still  standing  near  us.  He 
was  evidently  puzzled  by  the  turn  things  had  taken. 
He  was  listening  attentively  to  what  we  said,  and 
I  had  no  doubt  he  would  remember  every  word  of 
it  afterwards.  Patterson  turned  on  him  snappily. 

"I  thought  I  told  you  to  go  away  and  finish  your 
patrol  somewhere  else,"  he  said.  "Why  are  you 
standing  there?" 

The  sergeant,  disappointed  I  fear,  saluted  and 
stalked  up  the  street.  He  would,  no  doubt,  come 
on  Constable  Moran  somewhere.  I  sincerely  hoped 
he  would  not  find  Sabina  under  arrest. 

"We'd  like  our  hamper,  you  know,"  said  Tommy, 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    273 

"the  one  that  belongs  to  Mrs.  Maher.  So  when 
we've  brought  yours  in  we  can  take  ours.  You 
won't  mind,  will  you?" 

"Not  a  bit,"  said  Patterson.  "I  don't  know  why 
on  earth  you're  going  to  all  this  trouble,  but  you 
can  have  the  other  hamper  if  you  like.  Come  along 
into  the  house,  and  I'll  get  it  for  you." 

He  turned  as  he  spoke  and  went  back  towards  the 
door  of  his  house.  He  glanced  at  me  as  he  went, 
and  I  felt  sure  that  Mrs.  Maher's  hamper  would  be 
a  disappointment  to  her  when  she  got  it,  Patter- 
son had  not  believed  in  the  burglary  when  I  warned 
him  of  it,  but  he  had  evidently  stored  the  whisky  in 
some  safe  place  before  he  went  to  bed. 

"Uncle  Terence,"  said  Tommy,  "you'll  give  me 
a  hand  with  the  hamper,  won't  you  ?  And  with  the 
other  when  we  are  taking  it  away.  They  are  fright- 
fully heavy,  both  of  them." 

The  one  with  the  fish  in  it  certainly  was  heavy. 
Tommy  and  I  staggered  a  little  as  we  carried  it 
into  Patterson's  house.  But  I  had  every  hope  that 
the  other,  which  we  had  to  carry  much  further, 
would  be  lighter. 

"I  say,"  said  Tommy,  "things  are  turning  out 
better  than  I  expected  in  spite  of  that  ass,  Sergeant 
Morris.  I  wonder  where  Molly  is.  It'll  be  rather 
a  score  for  me  when  she  crawls  home  and  finds  me 
sitting  on  the  hamper  in  a  sort  of  alone-I-did-it  at- 
titude. I  must  say  I  scarcely  expected  to  pull  it 
off;  but  I  have,  or  as  good  as  have,  now." 


CHAPTER  XX 

TOMMY  and  I  lugged  the  hamper  into  Pat- 
terson's house,  and  dumped  it  down  in  the 
sitting-room.     Our  part  in  the  exchange 
was  accomplished,  but  Patterson  seemed  in  no  hurry 
to  give  us  the  other  hamper  as  he  promised.     He 
fiddled  about  the  room,  striking  matches  and  light- 
ing the  lamp.     At  last  he  offered  me  a  drink. 

"You'd  be  the  better  for  something  before  you 
go  home,"  he  said 

Tommy,  in  an  earnest  whisper,  besought  me  to 
refuse  the  offer.  He  had  borne  himself  well  while 
under  arrest,  but  his  nerve  had  been  a  little  shaken 
by  the  experience.  He  wanted  to  get  home  as  soon 
as  he  could. 

"Don't  let's  delay,"  he  said,  "it's  frightfully  risky 
staying  here.  Anything  might  happen." 

There  certainly  still  were  several  things  which 
might  happen — the  capture  of  Sabina  by  Constable 
Moran,  for  instance,  or  the  arrest  of  Molly  by  the 
Sergeant.  I  understood  Tommy's  dislike  of  fur- 
ther complications.  But  Patterson  was  pressing. 

"You  must  have  a  drop  of  whisky,"  he  said.  "I 
have  some  excellent  stuff." 

I  understood  from  the  way  he  said  his  last  sen- 
tence that  he  was  offering  me  some  of  the  island 

274 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    275 

poteen.  I  very  much  wanted  to  taste  it,  and  I  felt 
that  I  had  fairly  earned  a  drink.  Patterson  went 
over  to  the  sideboard  and  opened  one  of  the  cup- 
boards. The  door  was  not  locked,  which  shows  that 
Patterson  must  have  more  confidence  in  Quin's  sis- 
ter than  I  should  have  in  Quin.  I  should  be  very 
sorry  to  leave  him  alone  in  a  house  with  a  bottle  of 
whisky  that  was  not  locked  up.  Patterson  got  out 
a  syphon  of  soda  water  and  a  bottle. 

"Excuse  me  a  minute,"  he  said,  "I  must  go  and 
get  some  tumblers. " 

"Please  get  the  hamper  too,"  said  Tommy.  "We 
really  ought  to  go." 

Patterson  left  the  room,  carrying  his  bedroom  can- 
dle with  him.  We  heard  him  going  along  the  pas- 
sage which  led  to  the  pantry.  We  heard  the  clink- 
ing of  glasses,  when  he  moved  them,  and  then  the 
running  of  water  from  a  tap.  Patterson  had  evi- 
dently been  obliged  to  wash  up  the  glasses,  which  is 
very  much  what  I  should  expect  to  have  to  do  if 
Poacher  Quin's  sister  were  my  housekeeper. 

"I  wish  I  knew  where  the  hamper  is,"'  ''said 
Tommy.  "I'd  get  it  and  go,  if  I  knew.  In  fact, 
I've  a  good  mind  to  make  a  bolt  for  it  without  the 
hamper." 

He  looked  round  nervously.  I  do  not  know  what 
he  expected.  What  actually  happened  surprised  me 
and  I  am  sure  startled  him.  Molly  burst  into  the 
room.  She  was  giggling  excitedly ;  but  not,  I  think, 
through  happiness.  She  seemed  to  me  slightly  hys- 


276    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

terical.  It  was  some  time  before  I  got  her  story 
out  of  her.  At  first  she  would  tell  us  nothing  ex- 
cept that  the  police  had  captured  Poacher  Quin. 

""They're  taking  him  to  prison,"  she  said,  "and 
you  must  go  and  rescue  him  at  once." 

I  was  not  prepared  for  another  encounter  with 
Sergeant  Morris,  and  I  did  not  see  how  I  could  res- 
cue Quin,  unless  I  knew  what  he  had  been  arrested 
for.  It  was  very  hard  to  get  any  coherent  account 
of  what  had  happened  from  Molly.  She  spoke  in 
short  gasping  sentences,  and  would  not  begin  at  the 
beginning  of  her  story  or  keep  her  events  in  chrono- 
logical order.  However,  I  managed  to  find  out  that 
she  and  Quin  had  actually  taken  the  hamper  out  of 
Patterson's  scullery  and  carried  it  across  the  yard. 
There  they  waited,  sitting  on  the  hamper,  I  suppose, 
until  the  police  who  had  arrested  Tommy  had  dis- 
appeared. They  tried  to  lift  the  hamper  over  the 
wall  and  failed.  Quin,  very  gallantly,  offered  to  go 
and  get  a  ladder,  Mahony's.  It  was  while  he  was 
returning  with  the  ladder  that  Sergeant  Morris  came 
on  him  and  arrested  him. 

Patterson  came  back  with  his  tumblers  on  a  tray 
while  I  was  still  questioning  Molly.  He  gave  a  start 
of  surprise  when  he  saw  her.  He  must,  I  think, 
have  expected  to  see  her  sooner  or  later,  but  he  was 
startled  by  her  appearance.  Molly  in  my  riding 
breeches  was  rather  a  curious  sight.  But  she  was 
much  too  excited  to  be  embarrassed.  She  rushed 
at  Patterson  the  moment  he  came  in. 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    277 

"Do  go  and  save  poor  Quin  from  the  police," 
she  said.  "They've  caught  him,  and  they're  going 
to  put  him  in  prison." 

"I  really  think  you  ought  to,  Patterson,"  I  said. 
"He  hasn't  committed  any  crime.  It  isn't  against 
the  law  to  carry  a  ladder  about,  even  in  the  middle 
of  the  night." 

I  fully  expected  to  hear  Patterson  say  that 
Poacher  Quin  is  a  rank  Sinn  Feiner,  and  deserves 
to  be  arrested,  whether  he  has  committed  any  crime 
or  not.  I  dare  say  he  would  have  said  something 
like  that  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  Molly  was  stand- 
ing in  front  of  him  with  her  hands  clasped  and  a 
look  of  supplication  in  her  face.  But  before  he  an- 
swered me  there  was  an  outburst  of  noise  in  the 
street,  trampling  of  feet,  voices  raised,  and  some 
very  profane  language.  Poacher  Quin  was  evi- 
.dently  putting  up  a  fight  for  liberty.  Patterson  set 
down  his  tray  of  glasses  and  went  to  the  door. 

"I'll  put  a  stop  to  that  row  at  all  events,"  he  said. 

"And  bring  Quin  back  with  you  for  a  drink,"  I 
said,  as  he  left  the  room.  "You  ought  to  remember 
that  the  whisky  is  really  his,  and  it's  rather  hard 
if  he  doesn't  get  even  a  glass  of  it." 

Patterson  made  no  reply  to  this  appeal.  I  might 
have  followed  him  into  the  street  and  pressed  Quin's 
claims  on  him,  but  my  attention  was  attracted  by 
Molly.  She  turned  on  Tommy  in  the  fiercest  way. 

"Why  didn't  you  go  home  at  once,  when  I  told 


278   ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

you  to?"  she  said.  "If  you  had  everything  would 
have  been  all  right." 

"You  didn't  tell  me  to  go  home,"  said  Tommy, 

Molly  stamped  her  foot. 

"I  did,"  she  said,  "I  put  my  head  over  the  wall 
twice  and  signalled  to  you  that  you  were  to  go  home 
at  once,  because  Quin  and  I  had  the  hamper  safe 
and  didn't  want  you  any  more,  because  we'd  lift  it 
over  the  wall  ourselves  as  soon  as  we'd  got  Ma- 
hony's  ladder.  I  couldn't  say  it  out  loud  on  ac- 
count of  the  police.  But  you  ought  to  have  under- 
stood." 

"I  didn't  understand  all  that,"  said  Tommy. 
"How  could  I  when  all  you  did  was  make  faces  at 
me?" 

"Anyone  with  any  intelligence  would  have  under- 
stood," said  Molly.  "Look  here!"  she  turned  to 
me,  "you'd  have  understood,  wouldn't  you,  if  you'd 
seen  me  signalling  like  this?" 

She  stood  in  front  of  me  and  began  to  nod  and 
frown,  occasionally  waving  her  hand. 

"I  call  that  making  faces,"  said  Tommy. 

"You'd  have  understood,  wouldn't  you?"  said 
Molly  to  me. 

I  was  saved  from  having  to  take  a  side  in  the  de- 
bate, by  Patterson's  return.  I  was  pleased  to  see 
that  he  brought  Quin  with  him  and  had  apparently 
got  rid  of  Sergeant  Morris. 

"We'll  all  have  a  drink  now,"  he  said,  genially. 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    279 

"I'd  like  Quin  to  taste  this  whisky.  I've  always 
heard  he's  a  bit  of  a  connoisseur." 

"Any  whisky  that  you  and  his  Reverence  might 
be  drinking,"  said  Quin,  "would  be  good  enough 
for  me." 

Patterson  gave  us  each,  a  tumbler.  He  winked  at 
me  as  he  poured  out  the  whisky.  He  was  evidently 
looking  forward  to  seeing  Quin's  astonishment  when 
he  discovered  what  he  was  drinking. 

Quin  raised  the  tumbler  half  full  of  undiluted 
whisky,  and  held  it  at  arm's  length.  Patterson  and 
I  watched  him  with  interest.  Quin  bowed  courte- 
ously to  me. 

"May  the  devil  fly  away  with  the  roof  of  the 
house  where  you  and  I  aren't  welcome,"  he  said. 

Then  after  a  brief  glance  at  Molly,  he  turned 
towards  Patterson. 

"May  you  have  the  choice  of  all  the  girls  in  Ire- 
land," he  said,  "when  you're  looking  for  a  wife." 

He  drew  the  glass  towards  his  mouth.  Then  he 
set  it  down  abruptly  on  the  table.  He  had  not  tasted 
the  whisky.  The  smell  of  it  told  him  what  it  was. 

"Gosh!"  he  said. 

But  it  was  scarcely  possible  that  Patterson  could 
be  offering  him  his  own  poteen  to  drink.  He  raised 
the  glass  again,  sniffed  critically,  and  then  swal- 
lowed a  mouthful  of  the  spirit. 

"Gosh !"  he  said  again.  "If  any  man,  if  his  Rev- 
erence himself,  if  every  bishop  in  the  whole  of  Ire- 


280   ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

land  had  said  that  to  me  I'd  have  told  him  he  was 
a  liar." 

He  set  the  tumbler  down,  crossed  the  room,  and 
took  Patterson's  hand.  He  shook  it  warmly. 

"I  always  said  you  were  a  gentleman,  Mr.  Pat- 
terson," he  said.  "There  was  them  that  didn't 
agree  with  me,  but  I  always  said  it.  Didn't  I,  your 
Reverence?" 

"Yes,"  I  said.     "I've  heard  you  say  that,  Quin." 

I  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  add  that  I  had  also 
heard  him  say  other,  very  different,  things  about 
Patterson. 

"And  it's  a  gentleman  you  are,"  said  Quin.  "But 
mind  what  I'm  saying  to  you  now."  He  sank  his 
voice  to  a  tone  of  solemn  warning  and  held  Pat- 
terson's hand  firmly.  "Mind  what  I'm  saying  now, 
If  the  Sinn  Feiners  was  to  catch  you  and  me  with 
that  stuff,"  he  nodded  towards  the  bottle,  "they'd 
have  our  blood.  Them  fellows  is  terrible  down  on 
the  whisky.  But,"  here  his  voice  became  more  re- 
assuring, "I'm  not  the  only  one  that'll  stand  by  you. 
There's  the  Flanagans,  and  there's  more  besides. 
We'll  be  a  match  for  them  in  the  latter  end,  so  we 
will!" 


CHAPTER  XXI 

I  FINISH  writing  this  account  of  the  Inisheeny 
adventure  three  weeks  after  the  night  of  the 
burglary. 

Nothing  really  exciting  has  happened  since  then, 
Patterson  called  on  me  the  evening  after  the  Floods 
left  Carrigahooly.  He  formally  renounced  his  be- 
lief that  Poacher  Quin  is  a  dangerous  revolution- 
ary, and  said  he  no  longer  thought  that  the  Flana- 
gans are  engaged  in  storing  arms  for  the  use  of 
our  Republican  army.  Beyond  that  he  would  not 
go,  though  I  pressed  him  to  tell  me  how  he  likes  his 
new  allies.  The  situation  greatly  interests  me.  Up 
to  the  present  the  Sinn  Fein,  de  facto,  Government 
of  Ireland  has  not  taken  any  steps  to  put  a  stop  to 
our  trade  in  illicit  whisky.  But  I  expect  soon  to 
hear  of  the  arrest  of  Patterson.  The  Inisheeny  dis- 
tillery will  certainly  not  be  allowed  to  go  on  with 
its  manufacture,  for  we  Irish  are  honourable  men. 
We  are  at  war  with  England,  but  we  refuse  to  take 
an  unfair  advantage  of  our  enemy  by  cutting  off 
one  of  their  supplies  of  revenue. 

I  want  to  know  how  Patterson  means  to  act  when 
he  is  arrested  by  the  officers  of  the  Irish  Republic 
for  robbing  the  English  Treasury,  and  afterwards 
rescued  by  Poacher  Quin  and  a  party  of  Flanagans. 

281 


282    ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT 

But,  though  I  tried  till  Tommy  yawned  and  went 
to  bed,  I  could  not  induce  Patterson  to  argue  out 
his  position  with  me.  He  kept  switching  the  con- 
versation off  to  other  subjects,  and  appeared  totally 
uninterested  in  the  really  peculiar  dilemma  which 
faces  him.  Yet  I  should  have  supposed  he  would 
have  appreciated  the  flavour  of  the  dish  which  has 
been  set  before  us.  Is  there  any  parallel  to  our  case 
in  the  history  of  other  revolutions;  any  instance  in 
which  a  party  of  rebellion  undertook  to  enforce  the 
laws  and  secure  the  revenue  of  the  older  Govern- 
ment? Is  there  any  instance  of  an  alliance  between 
the  officers  of  the  Government,  and  the  habitual 
breakers  of  the  law  to  defeat  the  good  intentions  of 
revolutionaries?  These  are  just  the  sort  of  ques- 
tions which  Patterson,  who  is  a  student  of  history, 
used  to  like  to  discuss.  But  he  left  me  that  night 
without  discussing  them. 

I  have  not  seen  him  since.  Two  days  later  he 
went  on  leave.  This  morning  I  had  a  letter  from 
him  asking  me  to  go  up  to  Dublin,  and  there  marry 
him  to  Molly  Floyd.  I  suppose  he  has  been  think- 
ing so  much  about  her,  that  he  has  had  no  time  to 
spare  for  the  consideration  of  the  problems  which 
confront  us  in  this  country.  I  feel  a  little  disap- 
pointed in  him.  Love-making,  betrothals,  and  mar- 
riages are  common  things  and  have  been  taking  place 
all  over  the  world  for  centuries.  Our  position  in 
Ireland  is  unique  in  its  entanglement.  If  Patter- 


ADVENTURERS  OF  THE  NIGHT    283 

son  were  a  really  intellectual  man  it  would  interest 
him  more  than  Molly  does ;  though  I  admit  and  have 
always  said  that  Molly  is  a  very  pretty  and  most 
attractive  girl. 


THE  END 


'•72038 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


